Il Ritorno della Regina
by GeneticallyElvenGryffindor
Summary: A Legolas Story with some Aragorn and others later on UPDATED: Guards Sometimes what is past is not past and sometimes the present can get involved with the past. The world changes drastically for a certain Mirkwood Ruler as he
1. I Legno Dorati

AN: Hi everyone! This is my semi-sort of sequel to "Il Fiore Bianco." I don't think you really need to read my other story to understand this one, though. Read it if you so desire and if you want the small amount of back story it contains. Please, be kind and don't flame me for the concepts involved in this story. They're just products of idle time between classes at school (maybe some of my Chemistry Classes or something). I do this just for fun and to pass time. Please review, though, as I always appreciate them, whether they are good, bad, or indifferent.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

It was evening, or what the Niphredil perceived as evening, in the Golden Woods of Lothlorien. Through the tall golden colored trees the young girl walked, glancing here and there as she tried to take everything in. The girl, long inky colored hair pulled into a braid and was clothed in a simple, cloudy grey colored dress. Her feet were bare and dark eyes moved around the areas she moved through.

Though she'd been in Lothlorien for several days, at least that was what she thought since time seemed to move oddly through the ancient forest, this place was still very new and foreign to the young elven maiden.

Very different, too, from the home she left in Gondor. Where every there seemed to be made of white stone and other forms of brick work, Lothlorien seemed to posses its own special brand of architecture. Something about the ways the homes were built into the giant, golden glowing trees reminded the young girl of either the tree house the Robinson family lived in, from the pages of the book "Swiss Family Robinson," or from the Ewoks' homes in _Return of the Jedi_.

Of course, Niphredil knew that if she were to bring up either of those references, all she would get were odd looks from those around her.

"Not if Emma was here," the elven maiden though, as she followed her feet on some path her mind had created for her, "she'd understand them and, hopefully, get a good laugh too."

Though they were of different ages, from different areas in Middle Earth, and lived in different circumstances, Emma and Niphredil had one major thing in common. Both of them were born in Middle Earth but did a good chunk of their growing up in a realm outside their home. It was by no fault of their own, of course, and things turned out right in the end.

Mostly right, anyway, as Emma wasn't the most popular person with her biological father and Niphredil had been taken to these strange woods to learn to use a gift she'd only just become aware of.

A shock to the system to say the least.

Niphredil's feet took her to a grassy knoll, a few feet away from the main part of Lothlorien. There she flopped down on the springy grass, trying her best not to crush the small flowers that dotted the ground around her. She'd been told she was named after a type of flower found in these woods but she had yet to be able to identify them on her own. Everything was still too new, too confusing to her.

"And I know why," Niphredil decided, allowing her mind to drift back to what she perceived as a few days earlier.

_**Flashback**_

Using one of those Portkeys that the wizard Patrick had introduced to a select few in Middle Earth, Niphredil appeared just on the borders of the strangest woods she'd ever seen. She'd been a Girl Scout in the other world, after all, and had figured that all woods were alike. Just full of trees and grass and small animals that made the younger Girl Scouts and first time campers jump whenever they tried to sleep.

These woods weren't properly green, like all the others she'd seen before. If anything, these were golden in color and seemed to exude some ancient feeling. A feeling Niphredil had never had a chance to sense before, not even in her time among her friend Hope's mutant friends and family. There was a sense of peace, too, and a sense of quiet calm that danced through the air hand in hand with the ancient feeling.

That peace and quiet was shattered though by the mere presence of another figure standing on the wooded borders. That being the Elven Ranger known as Fire.

"Why in the world, my dear sister, did you have to bring her here? There has to be one place in Middle Earth that she cannot visit," Fire protested.

Though Ice was of a higher rank and older than her sister, Fire was by and large the louder of the two. To Niphredil, it appeared that the young girl felt it was her right to give everyone and anyone her opinion. For a variety of reasons, the largest of them being her besting the Elven Ranger in armed combat, she and Fire did not get along.

"She has a point, Ice," Mac, one of Fire and Ice's friends, commented, "It seems odd that Captain would ask for her. She has not done anything to merit joining our band."

"Besides, she is too young," Goose added, in a honking voice, "she's just newly arrived here!"

"If the order had come from Captain, my friends, I would be inclined to agree with you. My orders, though, did not come down from Captain," Ice retorted, as she gestured for Niphredil and the others to follow her down a narrow path.

The group walked silently, as Niphredil tried to take in everything around her. Her initial suspicions had been correct. This wooded area was not like any other she'd ever been in.

As they got deeper within its tree lined confines, Niphredil began to note the faint music in the air. It was a bit disconcerting at first but, as they continued walking, the elven maiden grew use to it. It was like the ambient music plated in stores or on elevators in the other world. It was just there, or so she figured.

Niphredil felt the need to be strangely quiet but the others she was traveling with seemed to feel otherwise.

"If your orders did not come down from Captain, who did they come from?" Mac asked, obviously curious.

"More important than that," Fire cut in, "how come you did not ask us to come along?"

Ice sighed, a sound just audible over the music seeming to come from the surrounding area, and answered, "My orders came down from the Lady Galadriel. She requested the presence of the young one and ordered me to travel with as much speed as one could muster. I would have brought you along, my dear sister, but I needed to leave right away."

Fire said something under her breath that her sister chose to ignore. Whatever she said, however, seemed to amuse Mac and Goose.

The announcement Ice made, however, gave Niphredil a reason to pause. She'd heard about Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Woods, from both her parents. From what she knew, and could recall in her stunned state, she was one of the most ancient elves in Middle Earth. Galadriel also happened to be Niphredil maternal great-grandmother.

Maybe this visit was to be expected, then, since her parents had said she would, one day, be able to visit her great-grandmother's home. Why this visit had become so urgent was beyond her, though.

The rest of the trip was taken in silence, a silence that was only broken when the reached the heart of the Golden Woods.

"This is where we leave you," Ice informed Niphredil in her no nonsense voice, "I wish you good luck."

There wasn't a moment to dwell on what the Elven Ranger could, possibly, be referring to as Niphredil's attention was drawn elsewhere. Without a sound, a tall elven woman clad in white and with an almost radiant air about her appeared before her. This woman seemed to taken in everything about Niphredil in an almost quite study.

Niphredil tried to stand perfectly still and draw upon her karate training. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she flinched but she felt very small and very insignificant under the woman's gaze. Not a good feeling to say the least.

"It is good to see you again, my child," the woman said in an almost friendly voice, "it does me well to see that you have grown and are in good health. It has been many years since I have seen you last. I am afraid I almost did not recognize you."

"I do not want to be rude, ma'am, but I'm not sure who you are. Perhaps I should but I'm still very new to this world," Niphredil admitted with a sheepish grin.

The woman laughed, a strange sound considering her imposing stature.

"I would not expect you to, Niphredil, since you were but a child when I last saw you. I am your great-grandmother Galadriel," the woman, elf actually, replied, "and I have called for you at a time when your skills will be needed most."

"Skills?" Niphredil asked, obviously confused, "I don't have any skills. I mean, I can use a sword and I know how to fight hand to hand but that's about it."

Another laugh bubbled out of the fair haired elven woman. She hadn't expected Niphredil to know, unless her mother had told her. Thankfully, though Arwen had thought better of it and waited for someone else. Someone who understood just what Niphredil was able to do and how this skill could be put to good use.

"Come, we will sit and eat. There will we discuss what skill I speak off," Galadriel stated, leading Niphredil out of the heart of the Golden Woods.

_**End Flashback**_

Niphredil shook herself free from her memory, coming back to the present time. What had taken place at that meal was imprinted on the elven maiden's mind as indelibly as anything else.

It was there she discovered she was no ordinary elf. She had the power to go into something- Someplace? - called the Halls of Mandos to speak with the dead. There were even some cases; she recalled being told, that she could return to dead to life. Those cases were rare, though, and required the circumstances to be extremely extenuating.

For the better part of her time within the confines of the woods, Niphredil learned how to go too and from the gray space that was the Halls of Mandos. Well, she perceived it as being gray but the space might have been a different color entirely.

If she was not "training-" for lack of a better world- Niphredil was allowed to wander the woods or visit with her great-grandparents. Both were interesting ideas but she found another distraction. That being the training of the gray clad guards of the Golden Woods. Guards that seemed to include Fire and Ice- by other names she did not recognize, though.

"My lady, I have a message for you," came a voice from behind Niphredil.

"Message away, my friend," Niphredil commented, with a wiry smile.

"The Lady Galadriel requests your presence near her mirror. She said it is time," the owner of the voice, an elven male clad in the grays of the Guards of the Golden Woods.

"Time for what?" Niphredil broached, unsure what was going on.

"She would not say, my lady. She only said that it was very urgent and that she would explain it to you once you arrived," the guard said, bowing his way away from Niphredil.

Confused and a bit lost, Niphredil stood up and headed off in the direction of her great-grandmother's mirror. Whatever was going to happen would happen once she arrived there and not a moment sooner.

"Plus," she mused aloud, "it would be most rude to keep her waiting."


	2. Una Ricerca

AN: I'M SO SORRY! I kept meaning to update this story and my X-Men story but, it seems, that the "Real World" decided to throw a bunch of things at me at once. I had to take my GREs in order to be able to apply to Graduate's School and then I had to hunt down applications for the schools I want to apply to. After that was done, my semester at school started. I had to figure out how to fit in new classes with everything else and go buy text books (which I'm not done with because the lousy bookstore didn't have two of the books I needed). I'm sorry for the terrible delay and I promise to try not to let it happen again. Anywho, thank you for the reviews. You guys rock like a box of socks. I always appreciate your review and, please, keep them coming.

Ms. Unknown: Wait no longer! Her powers, and their purpose, shall be revealed shortly. Since everything needs a purpose but that's a horse of a different color.

horsiegurl: Many thanks for the compliment. Here's my update, a whole lot later then I actually wanted to put it up but, like a said before, I'm going to try my best to update either sooner or with a little more regularity.

LalaithoftheBruinen: Well, I'm glad you're excited and I'm equally glad you liked the beginning of my little adventure. I hope you like this chapter just as much!

pixie88: First things first, good luck in Calculus II and I hope you understand everything that goes on in that blasted subject. Calculus is absolutely no fun when you don't understand what's going on in it. There's going to be plenty of Legolas and Emma in this story…eventually. I'm glad you're still interested in reading my little adventure even though you found my website (which I have to update one of these days). As for the Ewoks, I'm a huge Star Wars fan and I figured I might as well throw them in there for a bit.

Lindiel Eryn: Right in one! That's how Niphredil does what she does and it'll come into play again in a short while. You are very much correct; it is going to be more of a sequel to Il Ballerina Piccolo than anything else. As for the Queen that's making her return, you shall soon see who that is as well. I will tell you the returning queen is going to find she has to help another soul who has recently returned to Middle Earth by wholly other means, though.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Silently, though no matter what she wore on her feet, she moved silently, Niphredil followed the gray clad page through the tall trees of Lothlorien. Having no clue what was going on still wreaking havoc with the back of her mind, she still followed. If she'd learned anything during her time in Lothlorien, it was that answers would be given to her in time. There was no rushing things in the ancient woods where time seemed to move of its own accord.

The continued presence of the gray clad figure, acting in the position of guide, was a luxury Niphredil felt she didn't need. After all, she'd gone to and from her great-grandmother's mirror on her own several times before.

The young elven maiden was the first to admit that she'd once been unable to find her way there on her own- Since the woods seemed to be vast and the tall trees were enough to throw anyone off if they didn't know how to look for differences between then.- when she'd first come to Lothlorien. She could count on both hands the number of times guards had brought her down to where her Galadriel was waiting just because she was lost someplace in the woods.

Now, though, she could say she knew how to get there on her own. It was a feeling akin to being able to find a classroom or the, all important lunch room, in a new school A feeling akin to realizing one's head was not so close to a leaky cauldron as one had once thought. Really, a strange sense of satisfaction, if anything.

Through golden tinted trees and sunlight dappled forest floor the elven pair treaded, neither one of them making any sounds as they moved. Niphredil knew where they were headed but not what they were headed into. To her, though, the oddest aspect of the situation was the fact she wasn't really headed for any type of mirror she understood.

Back in the Muggle World- or the Other World as some called it- mirrors were reflective surfaces as fragile as any sort of glass Niphredil could think of. When told of her great-grandmother's mirror, she assumed that it followed in the grand tradition of magic mirrors in Muggle World fairy tales.

Much to her shock, it wasn't a mirror at all. Rather it was a basin full of water. True water could reflect like a mirror's surface but it could also warp an image, changing it to appear as something it wasn't. Maybe that was the point, really, since the mirror could show the past, present, and future. Well, show one path the future could take since it was always changing, always in flux, depending on the decisions made in the present.

Niphredil, upon her arrival to Lothlorien, had been offered a chance to look into said basin-as-a-mirror. A chance she declined for a variety of reasons. The main one being the fact she was an immortal elf and she assumed her future was going to be quite long because of the fact. She really had no need to know what her future held, especially if that future could be changed with a single. Simple decision.

Better to leave the unknown, unknown she figured was the best policy.

The guard took his leave as they approached the natural crater in the forest's floor that was the location of Galadriel's mirror. Down the stony steps, Niphredil descended trying to hurry up without it looking like she was doing so.

Standing, obviously waiting for her very young great-granddaughter was Galadriel. The ancient elven female had the unique honor of making Niphredil feel very small and very much like a child who'd done something wrong whenever she was in her sights. There were very few people, in both Middle Earth and the Muggle World, who could claim they held that auspicious honor.

As a matter of reference, the list was only three people long. There was her former Tae Kwan Do instructor, Doc, who, when he was angry, could scare anyone in either world. Following him was the headmaster at the school her friend Hope's parents taught in. Niphredil held the sinking suspicion that he could look into your very mind and see what was going on. Suspicions that were affirmed when she found out that Hope and her friends and family were mutants.

The latest addition to her mental list was Galadriel. The elven female, like her friend's headmaster, seemed to have the ability to know just what one was thinking at all times. She was far older than Niphredil could ever comprehend and far wiser than Niphredil could ever hope to be. Given her tall stature and the powerful air about her, Niphredil felt very tiny when compared to her great-grandmother.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Galadriel. I came as quickly as I could," Niphredil, meekly, offered.

"There was no need to rush, Niphredil," the ancient elf commented, "Though I wish there was more time for this to be done in."

The given reply confused Niphredil greatly. It was almost as if she was being given a "yes" and "no" answer at the same time. Though, according to Ice, that was typical of all the "ancient ones. She'd been told never to ask them for advice since they would tell you two opposing things at once. How Ice knew this, Niphredil couldn't say and she wasn't keen on asking lest she get an answer she couldn't understand.

"If I may ask, what are we doing here?" Niphredil broached, "What was so urgent?"

That was the crux of the situation, for the young elven maiden. She was sure just why her great-grandmother had requested her presence. Especially in this specific place in the Golden Woods.

"As you are now aware, my child, you possess a great and powerful gift. A gift that has a great purpose and comes with responsibilities that not even the wise can fully comprehend. One of your friends is in great need of this gift," Galadriel explained, baffling Niphredil further.

The idea of a friend being in need immediately brought one individual to Niphredil's confused mind. That being her friend from the Muggle World, Hope. The small mutant child lived in a world that wasn't particularly kind to her "type" of people: the mutants. Violent actions were taken against mutants in that world on a frighteningly regular basis.

Still, Niphredil couldn't understand how her martial arts skills would be of any use to Hope, her friends, and her family. They had their mutant abilities. Abilities that her meager skills in hand-to-hand combat and with a sword paled against.

"I'm not sure who you're referring to. Is my friend, Hope, in any kind of danger?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"It is not your friend Hope I speak of, Niphredil,' Galadriel replied, "Can you think of no one else?"

Niphredil sighed, trying to wrack her already confused brain for an answer. It seemed to her that any answer she wanted wasn't going to simply be given to her. She was either going to have to figure them out herself or earn them in some other way.

Faces parade themselves through her mind as she tried to figure out this massive puzzle that had been set before her. She wasn't quite sure who she could consider a friend, though, there was one person she could most definitely call a rival. She was thankful, at least that much was clear at the moment.

Then it hit her like a bolt of lightening. There had been one person, one single individual that had made the attempt to be her friend. Part of her assumed her father had one of his hands in the situation, urging the young girl to befriend his daughter. Not that she was angry at him for doing so. After all, there were only a handful of people who could claim to have made the transition from the Muggle World to Middle Earth.

As if to affirm her suspicions as being correct, Galadriel began, "There is something going on in Emma's home of Mirkwood and, though she does not know it, she is at the center of the situation."

Niphredil shook her head and gave a small, annoyed sounding laugh. Emma was, among other things, the crowned princess of Mirkwood forest, sister to the Prince Legolas, and all around thorn in the side of Thranduil, the Lord of Mirkwood forest.

From many different people, Niphredil had heard about the….dislike….Thranduil had for his youngest child. It made a strange sort of sense, then, for something to be happening and for Emma to be blissfully unaware of it.

"What do I have to do?" Niphredil asked, sounding a bit more determined.

"I must ask you to, once again, go into the Halls of Mandos and seek out a specific spirit. I am hoping that she will be allowed to return to life with you as her guide. There may yet be a way to undo what is being done with in the halls of Mirkwood," Galadriel informed the very young elf.

"Just tell me who I'm looking for, Galadriel," Niphredil stated, trying her best to sound as brave as possible, "and I will try my best to get it done."

Opening her ears to the necessary information she was being given, Niphredil steeled herself for what she knew was to come. Going into the Halls of Mandos, walking among those who had gone before her, was a task she couldn't take lightly and care and discretion were things that needed to be practiced lest she finds herself permanently trapped among the dead.


	3. Presa Di Viaggio

AN: Ok, again, I'm sorry for running late on this update. I've been trying to apply for grad schools. Geeze….I didn't know that some of the applications were so complex and crazy. One I'm still trying to figure out with my mom's help. I also had to hunt down letters of reference from my professors. I had to ask two professors I get along with and one (my wicked and evil Chemistry professor) I really don't get along with. I just hope she writes a good letter for me. Anywho, I'm trying to get these updates up a bit more regularly and I really thank all of you for your patience. Well, your patience and your reviews. I really appreciate every one of them I get. All of you rock like a box of socks!

Ms. Unknown: I apologize for the length of the chapter. I will do my best to make them longer in the future. Still, I'm glad you liked it!

LalaithoftheBruinen: Wait no longer! Here's the next part! Things will, hopefully, settle down now since I've got all the stuff going for my applications and stuff. Thanks for your concern, though!

pixie88: I don't think it would be much fun either, maybe a little creepy or something. Niphredil was, kind of, thrown into this situation headlong. She isn't really all together comfortable yet and she doesn't know what to think. You are correct in that she tries to make relations to the Muggle world because, although she wasn't all that comfortable there, it's all she really knows. As for Emma, she's really just a kid who knows that her father doesn't really like her but that doesn't bother her much. You are right in the fact she's just a happy kid living in a strange family situation that doesn't seem to bother her either.

elentir girl: Have no fear….the next update's here. A bit late, and I apologize for that, but it's up now. Hopefully, they'll be more regular now that everything seems to be settling. I'm glad you like the story, though!

Lindiel Eryn: She is heading into the Halls of Mandos! As for the queen she's after, that'll be seen sooner or later.

horsiegurl: She's walked there before for practice and for other reasons. I'm not sure if I mentioned it or not. Here's the next update.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

As one princess prepared to step into the world of shadows and of the dead who still walked like the living, another squinted as bright eyes were smarted by the sun. She'd been inside all day, having lessons with the other "younglings," as their instructor called them, trying to get herself caught up with her new home.

History and customs she was having no problems with, having been a good history student in the Muggle world. Anything related to the arts- paintings, drawing, music, and, especially, dance- were more than a pleasure to study. She could spend hours a day learning any number of traditional dances or watching the court's musicians play.

Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact she'd been given the honor of dancing with the court's most skilled dancers. An honor she'd earned not because of the title she held- Held like something dangerous since she didn't want to abuse the power it had- but for the trained skills she possessed. Maybe there was something to be said for all the years of mental "abuse" Spiro, her once ballet teacher, had put her through.

Despite her dance skills and the enjoyment she found in any other art forms her "native" language was still posing problems for her. Muggle world English was her mother tongue, she'd grown up all her life speaking it. The languages of the elves- The languages her father insisted she learn- was posing a bit of a difficulty for her. Aside from a handful of words she could say properly, she felt awkward speaking the languages. Even if her mother and brother said otherwise.

That was why she was glad for the interruption in her daily schedule. It was during the time her language tutor held lessons with her.

After all, it wasn't everyday, Emma, crowned princess of Mirkwood and pain in her biological father's side, was able to get out of her lessons.

"You'll keep an eye on her, right?" Shannon asked, again.

She and her husband, Mitchell- Collectively known as Emma's adoptive parents- were leaving Middle Earth on a long "vacation." It wasn't a "vacation" in the normal sense of the word anyway. The two of them made occasional appearance back in the Muggle World as not to make their sudden disappearance seem all that strange. This little "vacation" was special, though, timed specifically by Emma and portal traveling wizard called Patrick.

It coincided with the couple's wedding anniversary.

With help from the wizard- who seemed to know about, what he called, Muggles- she'd managed to arrange an actual vacation for her adoptive mother and father. The two people who were more like real parents than her real father was.

Mitchell was eager, almost excited to go. Emma knew he didn't really like living in Middle Earth because he missed all the so-called comforts of the Muggle World. He never ever said anything because being in Middle Earth was what made his wife and daughter happy. That and he seemed to enjoy watching his wife verbally spar with Mirkwood's ruler and Emma's biological father, Thranduil.

Emma's mother, Shannon, was a different story entirely. She wasn't at all comfortable leaving Emma in Middle Earth, especially since Thranduil seemed to be up to something. The woman wasn't sure why she felt that way- Perhaps some long forgotten instinct from her past life coming to light when it was needed most- but she did and she couldn't shake that feeling.

Even the promise she extracted from Emma's half-brother Legolas wasn't doing anything to make her feel better.

"I will make sure to keep both my eyes on her at all times and see to it that she gets to her lessons. There is nothing to worry about, my lady," Legolas promised, again, "There is nothing I am going to do that will harm Emma. I am not my father."

"Could have fooled me," snipped Mitchell standing nearest to the half opened portal.

The mortal man had never quite forgiven Legolas for whisking Emma off on some- as he called it- "stupid quest" during their first visit in Middle Earth. He saw it as a personal offence instead of the only way to find the truth as everyone else seemed to.

Shannon frowned at Mitchell for a brief moment before turning her attention to Legolas and her Emma.

She sighed, acquiescing to Legolas' words, and started, "Alright, Emma, make sure you stay out of trouble and listen to your brother. Please, try to stay out of Thranduil's way as much as possible. I don't want to hear he's done anything to you while I'm gone."

"I promise, mom, and you can trust Legolas," Emma explained, "he took really good care of me last time and that was when we went away with Fire and Ice and their friends."

She smiled, seeing that her daughter had a good point. She trusted Legolas with Emma not only because they were half-siblings but because he seemed to genuinely like the little girl. Liked her more than her biological father did anyway.

"Then, I guess, I'll see you two kids in two weeks," Shannon sighed, as she pulled Emma into a tight hug and kissed her on the forehead.

Emma laughed doing the same. She, then, darted off to bid her father a farewell. Not before laughing as Legolas received the same treatment as she did.

"You do realize, Shannon, that I am far older than you. I am no 'kid' as you call me," Legolas pointed out with a laugh.

"But you are someone's child, Legolas. That means, you're a kid someplace," Shannon countered.

"Shan, you're babbling," Mitchell called, "we'd best get a move on before this thing closes and we get stuck here."

Another round of hugs and kisses were past as Mitchell managed to, finally, usher Shannon through the portal and back into the Muggle World.

Emma remained, watching as the portal closed behind the two people she considered her parents.

Little did she know, as she walked back towards the complex that was Mirkwood that someone else was watching the exit with rapt interest. Things were going as well as he could hope for….very well, indeed.


	4. Fratello e sorella

AN: Sorry, again for the lateness of this update. I'm really trying to update on time but things seem to not want to settle down for me. This week, I got stuck helping my mom making flowers, certificates, chocolates, and other stuff for this Girl Scout Party my troop had on Friday. I haven't a clue why the other leaders didn't do anything to help out but I guess that's what happens when you're mom's in change of the troop. My sister and I get delegated most of the work and then we don't get thanked for it during the party! Anywho, I'm ranting. Back to the real point, you reviewers rock like a box of socks. Please keep them coming and know that I appreciate each and every one of them. It always makes me feel bad that you guys are reviewing and I'm not updating on time. I'll try to get the next chapter up faster.

Lindiel Eryn: The prying eyes on the situation will come into play soon. All I can say is that the eyes don't belong to anyone particularly friendly, though their owner doesn't want to physically harm anyone either, nor do they belong to good old Gandalf. Alas, he's not around to make his usual mischief. If it can be called mischief really…

Ms. Unknown: Sorry, again, about the chapter length. I'll work on getting up some longer chapters soon. Hope you like this one coming up, though.

LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm happy that most of them are done too. I just have letters of recommendation to collect and transcripts to get from school. Then it's just a matter of sending the suckers out. I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you like this one too.

Shay: Well, Shannon's a mom and she's just doing what all moms do. Even if Legolas is far older than she is, no matter how you look at it. Thranduil won't be super mean or super evil or anything like that. He's just going to be a bit…crafty about certain things when it comes to Emma. Fire and Ice, actually, have their own little story I'm working on. The sisters' have their own little tale to tell. As for Elrond's sons, they may come up, eventually but I'm not sure when or where.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

It took a few days for elder brother and much younger sister to establish a regular routine. Their little "adventure" to Lothlorien and Minas Tirith helped a great deal in doing that. After all, riding through Middle Earth on a small quest to discover the truth about Emma's identity, was not something that disjointed a family. It made them closer, as a matter of reference.

Legolas, though, found himself thanking the heavens that Emma was a relatively good elfling. She followed his directions to the letter, never uttering a word of complaint about following them. She'd go to her lessons, come back to his quarters- as ordered by both him and her mother, Shannon- and work on what she called her "homework."

The older elf made a mental note to thank Shannon and Mitchell for raising such a worry free child. She never spoke a word of complaint about things she had to do or was told to do by anyone else.

In Legolas' mind, she was as good of a child as any he could ask for. At least she wasn't a trouble maker, causing chaos at every turn.

Of course, there was one who saw Emma as an annoyance and a troublemaker. The only trouble Emma ever caused, if it could even be properly caused trouble, was when something concerned their father, Thranduil. In the elven lord's eyes, she could do no right and he made a habit of criticizing every move.

About all Legolas to do to counteract his father's words and annoyances was to keep Emma out of Thranduil's line of sight. A feat that was becoming more and more difficult to accomplish as the elven lord made it a point to keep his eyes on his daughter. There was something about his glare, and the fact he was constantly speaking to a high ranking elf he recalled was named Narmotur, made Legolas a bit…wary…of his father. He got the strongest feeling that Thranduil was "up to something," to borrow a phrase from Emma's mother Shannon.

The problem was the fact he hadn't a clue what that something was. It was just going to take time and effort and a good bit of luck to figure out what that was.

The day started like any other. It was several days into Emma's parent's vacation- Maybe the third or fourth day- and it was a day that started like every other day prior to it.

"Come on, Emma," Legolas called to the blanketed figure curled up in a ball in his bed, "Time to rise. Do you not wish to get to your lessons today?"

A strange twist, a result really of her time living among a normal, mortal population, the little elfling had developed certain habits that were considered strange by elven standards. One of them, one he knew quite well, was the fact she required a handful of hours of light sleep every night.

It was almost a requirement for Emma since she'd never been able to adapt to resting her mind in the atypical way of the elves. Her body, from living among the humans, had become more accustomed to their way of sleeping. That was, with eyes closed and laying down in some location, preferably a bed.

Emma, already half awake to begin with, wormed out of the warm bed and rubbed at her eyes. Her long hair was sleep mused and her clothing- what she referred to as her "pajamas"- was rumpled beyond compare. Still, she wore a small smile on her face as life returned to her once sleeping limbs.

"Good morning, Legolas," she, brightly, commented, as she walked over to where he stood.

Nearly a lifetime of having ballet lessons in the other world at early hours had turned Emma into a consummate morning person. She found that tactic annoyed people who did not enjoy the wee hours of the morning. Thankfully, her brother was not among that group. He was rather tolerant of her high morning spirits.

"The same to you, Little Elf," he answered, "Go on and get dressed. You still have time to eat before your lessons start today."

Faster then he ever thought possible for any female elf, Emma had washed up, donned her green and brown outfit she wore for her lessons- The same outfit worn by peasant and royalty alike during lessons.- and returned to her brother to sit and eat.

"What lessons are you being subjected to today?" Legolas inquired, watching Emma eat before starting to eat himself.

He knew of Emma's dislike of taking her meals alone. Something the elfling explained had to do with her "parents" and their treatment of her in the other world. They never let her eat alone and he did not want to discomfort her by making her eat alone. Plus, he had to admit, he was a bit hungry himself, having been awake far longer than his younger counterpart.

"History and genealogy lessons as well as a few hours with the language instructor Thranduil has working with me," she answered in a bit of a glum voice.

Her expression totally changed after a few moments when she added, "We're going out to the practice fields today, too. I like those lessons a lot better than any of the other ones I have today. It's really easy to see why Niphredil finds that kind of stuff so much fun."

"Whatever you do out there, I beg to, make sure you stay safe. I am very sure Shannon wants you back in once piece and I do not want to be the one to have to tell her that you were harmed during your lessons," Legolas warned his sister.

Emma gave him a smile, thinking of the same kinds of warnings her mother use to give her before acrobatics classes. She'd always told her to remember to be careful and to watch out when she fell. Emma recalled her mother's worry about her snapping her neck when falling out of headstands or handstands. Handsprings made her mother cringe every time she tried to land one.

"I promise I'll be very careful. I want to stay in one piece because Niphredil promised that if I did well in my lessons, she'd show me some of the stuff she knows from the Muggle World," Emma announced, still smiling.

"Ah yes….Niphredil and her- what do you call it- martial arts. I am very sure your mother would appreciate that type of training. As it is, she has no love for your training here and it's a necessary evil given the fact the woods still are not completely safe," Legolas commented, laughing slightly.

There was a pause in the conversation, a space to take a few breaths and eat a bit more of the food laid out between the two of them.

"What are your plants today?" Emma inquired of her brother, her voice curious in tone.

"Father is going out hunting, I believe, so I am not so sure what he requires of me to do. No matter what I wind up doing, Little Elf, I will be back in time to eat an evening meal with you. Just come back here and make sure all of your work is completed before then," Legolas answered, giving her some subtle orders at the end.

"I'll make sure to get my homework done before we eat and, please, make sure not to work so hard," Emma commented, as she finished her meal.

"I will make every effort not to work too hard today, Emma. Now, you best be going before you are late for your lessons," the elder elf stated.

"No…I wouldn't want to be late at all. I was never late for dance classes back in the other world. I'll see you later then," Emma retorted, sliding out of her chair and walking over to where her brother was stated.

A brief hug later and she was racing for the door, determine to get to her lessons well before anyone else. She always felt it looked better when she arrived earlier. Showed she wanted to learn something. Plus, it was the fastest way of avoiding the rest of the people in her class who took their time getting to their lessons.

Outside of the palace of Mirkwood, well beyond the dark borders of the surrounding trees, a meeting was taking place. A meeting that should not have been taking place in any reality.


	5. Sogno Sopra

AN: I'm terribly sorry (I seem to be saying that a lot lately, come to think of it) for not updating sooner. I've learned a valuable lesson these past few weeks. That being, never trust your sister to do her homework on her own and never bet on a sure thing. Allow me to explain…my sister had this mountain of homework to do and, of course, she put it off until the last minute. For the past few days, I've been trying to help her finish this assignment. Though, at times, it seems like I'm doing more of the work than she but, maybe, that's just me. Anyway, she's finally got her homework done and I'm I gave her a stiff talking to about getting her homework done on time. As for betting on a sure thing, I spent the past few weeks trying to fix a mistake my school made. Apparently, some exemption letter got lost and, without it, I can't graduate in May! I had to argue my way through offices and professors in order to get another exemption letter written so I can bring it down to prove I've done everything I need to get out of school. I appreciate all your reviews and your patience. I really, truly do. You guys are the best!

Ms. Unknown: I'm glad you like it! I hope you like this next part too!

Lindiel Eryn: It could be that or it could be some other meeting. You'll find out soon either way! Maybe sooner then you think…

Horsiegurl: I was hoping to have this story updated sooner but fate doesn't seem to like me all that much lately. Anywho, here's the newest update and I will try to resolve the mystery as soon as possible.

Lalaithofthebruinen: I'm glad you liked the update! Here's the next part, fresh from my hard drive. I hope you like this one as much as you did my other updates…the few and far between they've been.

Elven Script: Ah…Chemistry! What a wonderful subject that is. Those professors seem to like to pile up the coursework for some strange reason. I'm glad you liked the story so far, though!

Shay: You have some very good timing! I got your review just as I was writing this update. Yeah, Emma and Niphredil are two totally different sides of the same coin. Sure they're both princesses but you got it right when you said Emma's more soft spoken and Niphredil's a whole lot tougher. Here's the next update and I'll hopefully be able to update sooner next time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

While Emma darted off to her lessons in the cave-compound that made up her home, another elf who had recently found her home in Middle Earth was heading towards a meeting that her logical mind told her she should never be going to. After all, in the other world, it was impossible to mix the world of the living with the world of the dead. That was a claim only crazy people and psychics- Usually fake ones since, in her experience with psychically powered mutants, Niphredil had never met one with the power to speak to the dead. - made. No sane person would ever claim they had such a skill for fear that they would be labeled a mutant; a "freak."

Then again, Niphredil was well aware of the fact she wasn't entirely a normal person….wasn't really a person in the definition of the word she knew. She was elf-kind- immortal, soundless when she moved, and, apparently, possessed of the rarest of gifts. Not that she'd asked for the gift she was using at the moment. Like her mutant friend Hope, it was something unlooked for though not entirely unwanted.

After all, she could help people by using it and there was nothing greater than helping people. At least, people who were worth helping.

If she hadn't done it before, Niphredil would have been properly scared out of her wits. All was cold and gray in the world Niphredil had landed herself in, if it could be called a world anyway. It was more like the physical equivalent of dead air, that gray staticy space when there was nothing to be seen on a Muggle world television screen.

The only thing that was not a sickly shade of gray was herself, strangely enough. She was covered in a strange golden covered film. At least, that's what it seemed to be to her. It could have appeared to be something else entirely to the figures moving about her in the gray expanse.

The golden film served a dual purpose. The first was to protecting her identity from the spirits surrounding her on all sides. She was not one of them and, as such, did not appear like them. The second was probably the more important of the film's two purposes. That being the fact it kept the forces keeping the spirits at bay from noticing she was there. Her mind could only imagine what they would do if they discovered a very much alive elven maiden wandering through their midst.

Niphredil took stock of her surroundings, settling herself down. The transition from the world of the living to the Halls of Mandos was always a little disconcerting.

"Now, where was I," she mused, trying her best to recall the vast library of information she'd been given about why she'd been sent to these halls.

Nearly hitting herself in the head, Niphredil recalled one of the most essential- and, arguably, strangest- things she'd been asked to do every time she was sent to the Halls of Mandos. For tracking purposes, she had to sing….something…from her world. The elven maiden only assumed that song, particularly Muggle World song, was used because she was the only one who would know such a song.

Plus, Niphredil had to admit that singing took her mind off the bleak surroundings she'd found herself in. After all, walking among the dead was no walk through the Golden Woods. It wasn't even a walk through her old Muggle home of Westchester.

Picking the first song- Of all the strange ones to think of, Aerosmith's "Dream On-" that came to mind, Niphredil started along a lonely path in the gray, cold world.

"Great….just great….what an inappropriate song," Niphredil mused, continuing to follow her feet down a familiar path, "I'm an elf, looking for an elf. We don't get old. At least, I think we don't."

The only reason the path was familiar to her was that she'd traveled to where the souls of the elves resided before. Part of a test, she now knew, to see if it could be done. Since it could be the mission she was currently on was being undertaken. Risks had to be weighed, after all, since Niphredil assumed Galadriel didn't want to be the one to have to tell her parents that she'd lost their daughter to the shadows of the Halls of Mandos.

Niphredil walked further on, continuing her song as she did. To her left and right, the images of the dead moved through their gray world. Some were distinct, mirror world images of their once living selves. They wore the same clothes and their features were distinct to them. Just like living, breathing individuals in her home world.

Others, though, were nothing more than shades. Shadowy forms of their other world selves. There was nothing distinct, unique about them. Some were so wholly lost by their fate- consumed by the fact that they no longer walked among the living- that they lost all form. Like living shadows they were, not even really touching the "ground" of the place in which they existed.

If Niphredil was going to be totally honest with herself, it was those spirits that put a cold knot of fear in her stomach. There was just something about them- Some natural malevolence, perhaps- that she didn't like.

Pausing along the path, Niphredil shaded her eyes and took stock of her surroundings. Of course, she knew that the shading of her eyes was totally and utterly unnecessary but it was something she did out of habit.

This place was different in subtle ways every time she entered it. The Halls, overall, were the same. It was just that little things change. Where there was once a fork in the path, there was not. A pile of rocks used to place oneself on a long path could be yards ahead where once it was close enough to touch.

"Where am I going," the elven maiden mused, taking a survey of her surroundings, "I have to get to where the elves are. I know where they are…I just have to get there and back in one piece."

One of the biggest concerns- Unvoiced, of course, since Niphredil didn't want to seem cowardly or frightened. -Niphredil had was that she feared she'd never find her way back to Lothlorien. There was never any failsafe for her to get back to Middle Earth. It wasn't included with the "gift" she'd been blessed with in about the same way certain mutant powers she'd heard about were both a blessing and a curse.

"I'm not getting anything done standing here. I'd better get a move on," Niphredil decided, going back to her solitary march across what appeared to be a path.

She was guessing at her direction, going by whatever instincts her "gift" provided her with. If she was wrong, Niphredil hoped she could only right herself and find her destination. If not, well, she was stuck in more ways than one.

There was no time in the Halls of Mandos. It wasn't a factor for the shades and spirits that walked its vast chambers. Then again, it didn't seem to be much of a factor in the Golden Woods of Lothlorien, the place in which Niphredil was currently residing.

Why it didn't bother her in Lothlorien, Niphredil would never be able to say, but, in the Halls of Mandos, the lack of time was very…bothersome. Growing up in a place, with a family, where time was one of the most important things its total absence was something she couldn't, comfortably, deal with.

That and, Niphredil longed to know just how long she'd been sneaking behind death's supposedly eternal veil. It was always a concern of her great-grandmother's that the golden veil that hid the young elven maiden only lasted for so long on the other side. If she was there for too long….she worried the veil would dissipate like the haze before the sunrise. Be burned off like the clouds to reveal the true nature of the day or, in Niphredil's case, the true nature of the trespasser.

Niphredil shook her worries off, trying to regain her atypical confident feelings. She knew she had to be getting close something in her gut told her so.

Snickering to herself, she mused, "Well, not all instinct. There were some elfish spirits passing by before."

The sprits, instead of mixing and mingling as they might have in life, tended to stay with their own kind in death. From experience and what she'd learned in her scant few lessons about Middle Earth, Niphredil had come to the conclusion that the spirits of men didn't know of the spirits of the elves and the two spirits were not aware of the spirits of the witches and wizards that were gathering alongside them.

She continued forward, moving along what her feet and eyes perceived as a path. It wended its way through a pale forest, trees as pale as the rest of their surroundings and making it nearly impossible for anyone passing through to separate the spirits from the surrounding ghostly forest.

It was a task, though, that Niphredil had to undertake. After all, that was her purpose for being at the moment. Her reason for wandering through a place that sent shivers of ice down her spin and forced her to worry about her very survival.

She started to stray from the path, moving on silent feet through the equally silent woods. She could see the spirits speaking to each other but their ghostly whispers fell on deaf ears. She couldn't hear them over the pounding of her own heart and the song she kept singing.

A song that had suddenly become highly ironic. There was now some strange truth to it, a silver ring she hadn't noticed before. Why was she here? Because she was trying to take someone away. Someone who used the same melodic speech of the elves. A speech that almost sounded like singing.

"Now how am I supposed to recognized this person?" Niphredil mumbled to herself, interrupting her song and looking at the vast field of elven spirits before her.

They were from every conceivable age, some dressed in what she liked to call "normal" clothing. Others were still armor clad as they had been when they'd fallen in battle. Here and there she recognized elven warriors fallen while wearing the burnished armor of Lothlorien. If her memory served her correctly, those elves had served under Fire and Ice's father in a battle fought not so long ago.

Sure, Galadriel had told her what the person she was looking for looked like but that was no indication in this place. The gray ghost paleness of everyone made finding specific features a chore to say the least. Still, Niphredil was determined to see the task done. Not just for her own personal pride but for the sake of her friend in Mirkwood. Whomever this person was, she was essential to Emma's wellbeing. However that worked.

Luck seemed to be on Niphredil's side, though. As she wandered the outskirts of the largest of the groups, she spotted her quarry off on her own. A smile crossed over the elven maiden's face as a pleased sigh escaped her lips. At least she wasn't going to have to wander aimlessly for who knew how long and look or, worse, admit defeat and turn back.

She paused, catching her breath and preparing herself for the proposal she had to make. This was never easy to do, especially since taking another person out of this place was never a sure thing. Sometimes they weren't allowed to leave for a variety of reasons. Reasons that seemed to be contrary to the ones she had for taking them out of the Halls of Mandos.

"What new devilry is this?" the elf blurted, shading her eyes from the brightness that had appeared before her.

"I'm no devil," Niphredil countered, "rather; I am an elf like yourself. In a way anyway because I'm half-elven but that's neither here nor there at the moment."

"You are not among the dead?" the elf asked, sounding rather stunned at the moment.

"And you're not among the living," Niphredil retorted with a hollow sounding laugh.

Getting control over herself again, Niphredil started, "My name is Niphredil, currently residing in the Golden Woods of Lothlorien, my lady. I was sent here by the Lady Galadriel to give you a message and a proposition of sorts."

The elf, a female of some status when she was still among the living motioned for Niphredil to continue speaking. For the longest time, she'd been wishing for something like this to happen. For something to break the monotony of her boring life among the dead. Unless this was some horrible trick played by some wicked spirit, she was more than willing to hear a message from the land of the living.

That was, if Galadriel was still among the living. Having not seen her here among the dead, the female elf could only assume the ancient elf was still alive.

"I was told to tell you, my lady, that the words from the past have come to the present and all has been fulfilled, though not in the way it was initially thought to be. I was also told to tell you that the child you were denied has arrived but requires your aid," Niphredil informed the female elf.

Before giving the elf a chance to understand or respond, she added, "I am here to give you the opportunity to return to the land of the living and become party of the situation unfolding in your home of Mirkwood."

For a moment, the elf was still and silent making Niphredil almost sure she didn't believe her words. Then realization dawned over her face, brightening it like the sun over the horizon. The words the young elf had used, the information she had given- Though it obviously made little or no sense to the other elf. - made perfect sense to her. The message was for her and for her alone. Plus, when hadn't she dreamed for a return to life, a return to the family she'd left behind and a chance to return to her former position as a pain in her husband's side? This was not an opportunity she could just look away from.

True, she could have waited to be reborn but that would have done her no good. She felt there was something else she had to do, another role she had to play that, in dying, she was denied. This seemed to be the only way to do that, to take the role she figured she was meant for.

"You have presented me with a great deal of information, much of which I sense you do not understand. It does make sense to me, though, and I thank you for passing it along. The offer you made, I will gladly take, as well," she informed a rather confused Niphredil.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear, my lady," Niphredil stated, after pausing for a handful of moments to recover from her initial shock of hearing what she did, "if you would be so kind as to follow me, I can take you back to Middle Earth."

Feeling slightly giddy- After all, she'd accomplished what she'd set out to do. - Niphredil started back towards the general direction from which she came. Her eyes, wide as they tried to take in everything, searching about for the hole of light that was her exit back home to the Golden Woods. This time, though, she was not traveling alone.

Hoping that she was doing the right thing and that she was in time to help her friend, Niphredil lead the elven woman back to the bright, colorful, and cheery lands of the living.


	6. Venendo a Contatto Nei Legno

AN: Happy Belated Easter/ Spring! This update has been sitting in the guts of my computer for a few days but, because of a wide variety of really little annoyances, I haven't been able to post it up. One of those annoying little things was the fact I seem to have picked up an annoying double ear infection from one of my younger relatives. Got to love little kids sometimes! I hope everyone is enjoying the fact winter is now officially gone and spring is on its way in. Here in New York (my home state) spring means the starting of baseball season. In just a few days the NY Mets will be opening their season up. Hopefully, they'll have a better year than the past few. Anywho, you reviewers rock like a box of socks and I thank you for putting up with my rather annoyingly infrequent updates! You guys are the best!

LalaithoftheBruinen: Here's the next part! I hope you like it as much as you liked the one before it!

Horsiegurl: Well, I'm happy you like my little adventure through Middle Earth. Here's the next update, as fast as I can get it posted!

pixie88: Yeah, school work tends to do that. All of a sudden you turn around and there's a mountain of work looking right back at you. Sometimes, I doubt that vacations exist anymore since there's always something that has to get done. Anywho, you are right when you say this person is going to make an impact on Middle Earth. I'm glad you liked the song and I do agree that it is a classic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

How they got into his quarters without him knowing it was beyond him. All Legolas knew was that he walked into the hallway to watch his sister disappear down its stony length as she made her way to her class. With every intention of delaying his meeting with his father to find out his tasks for the day, Legolas had gone back into his quarters to "tidy up," as his mother use to say.

Walking back into his quarters, though, Legolas found that the rooms had been invaded by the maids and the like. Like a whirlwind they swept through the rooms, cleaning up the very small mess he and Emma had managed to make in the few hours the young elven child was awake. Many of them glared at the prince as he tried to assist them in their tasks.

"Tis not your place, my prince," one of the maids commented, "Your father wishes to speak with you. We can take care of this small mess."

"I want to help," he protested, still trying to assist the cleaning crew in tasks he knew he was quite capable of doing himself.

They really didn't need to know the real reason why he was so eager to help. Not many knew of the tension that had developed between father and son as a result of Emma's sudden appearance. Not like the tension that seemed to fill every inch of the Thranduil's kingdom when he was subject to spending time with the young elven child that was his newly found daughter. That was easily felt by man and beast alike.

His protests fell on suddenly deaf ears, though. With a resigned sigh, the prince started for his father's chambers. Of course, he had designs on taking the so-called long way there. His pace, too, he slowed considerably as he spotted a rather inviting looking courtyard for him to visit.

Stepping outside, Legolas relished the feeling of the sun and the wind. It was a clear day, from what he could see of the sky, a good day for the training Emma was obviously excited about. Here and there plants grew, brightening the area further with colors that covered the spectrum. From muted purples to dazzling oranges and yellows, the flora was a sight to behold. The colors were intermingled with the brightest of greens his keen eyes had ever seen. True, it did not compare to the sheer beauty of Lothlorien but it came in at a close second.

Splitting the air, rending it as if it was some kind of cloth, was a shrill cry that made Legolas almost want to cover his ears. It seemed out of place in the peace and tranquility that pervaded the quiet little garden.

As suddenly as the sound started, it stopped. Figuring it was just some type of animal, Legolas turned to find himself face to beak with a hawk of some type. It struck him as unusual as birds like that did not often make their way into the forest of Mirkwood. Even with the slow lifting of the shadow that had covered the woods for so long, they were rare to see.

Stranger still was the fact the brown and white bird clicked its beak at him in an almost annoyed manner and stuck out its right leg as if to show him something. Bound to said leg with thin strips of cloth was a small piece of parchment.

"A hawk's message?" Legolas mused, finding the situation growing stranger as each moment passed.

The prince knew of only three places that made use of this relatively new way- Well, new to those living in Middle Earth. - to pass messages along. One was the "Wizarding World," where the mysterious red headed, portal traveling wizard Patrick lived. Legolas knew that, from time to time, the wizard sent said birds through portals in order to pass along what he deemed important information.

The other two locations had just started using said message system and, technically speaking, there were only two individuals that made frequent use of it. Those locations being the White City of Minas Tirith and, his own home, Mirkwood. Hawk messenger was the most expedient way for Emma to communicate with Niphredil, Princess of Minas Tirith and one of Emma's friends.

Carefully, so as not to get nipped by the ruffled bird, Legolas unbound the message from the creature's leg. Assuming it was for Emma- Since it was Niphredil who both wrote messages to his little sister and used a hawk to send them along- Legolas took the message and prepared to place it into his tunic to give to Emma later.

Then he noticed that message did not have the name of his sister on its front. Instead, the prince found his own name carefully written onto the flimsy piece of parchment.

"Who in Middle Earth would send me a message this way?" Legolas wondered, unrolling the parchment and marveling at how strange the day seemed to be getting.

Wasn't it just a short time prior that he was having a quiet meal with his sister and talking of the common events that were going to take place that day? Now, though, that seemed like the starting of a different day. Not the beginning of a day where he would get a message in the oddest of ways.

The parchment, itself, was unsealed as if the writer had meant to send it as quickly as possible. The hand it was written in was the unmistakable fine script of Niphredil, though.

"Niphredil? This is truly strange. There's no reason for her to message me unless something has gone ill for her at home," the prince, mentally, questioned himself as he looked over the letter.

Reading it to himself, he discovered that there was no reason to worry about the King and Queen of the White City. The reason it was mean for him and not for his younger sibling was clearly spelled out for him, though.

_Legolas,_

_It's me, Niphredil. Just in case you couldn't tell by the handwriting. Yes, I'm writing to you and I have a very good reason to do so. Don't worry ada and nana are well and safe at home. I'm still in Lothlorien on that mission Ice was talking about. I can't tell you what that mission is, though…sorry! I'm sending you a present…isn't that exciting! Meet it near the delivery path just beyond the practice fields. This should reach you before it does- Athena is a pretty fast flier- but you should hurry anyway._

_Say "hi" to Emma for me,_

_Niphredil_

Twice he read the letter and twice it did not make any sense to Mirkwood's prince. Neither he nor Emma had requested anything from Lothlorien and he was pretty sure his father had not either. Then again, the letter mentioned a gift of some kind. It struck Legolas as strange since he had not a clue what he had done to deserve a gift from Niphredil.

Still, it was an excuse for him to delay his meeting with his father further. Even if it was just some silly prank Niphredil was playing with him, he could always inform his father that he thought that the recently crowned Princess of Minas Tirith was being serious. It was that belief that forced him to not go straight to the request meeting.

Glad for the distraction and making a mental note to thank Niphredil when next they spoke, Legolas made his way over to the stables to retrieve Arod, his horse. Going on foot was an option but Niphredil's letter indicated he should get to the location with all due speed.

The path chosen path was not all that frequently used, leaving it overgrown with plant life of every variety. Leading his horse into a small stand of trees, Legolas slipped off the creature. Once his feet were on the ground, his eyes drifted to the part of the path that entered into Mirkwood. Just waiting and watching for the first sign of motion.

He did not have to wait long, though, as his keen eyes spotted motion down toward the far end of the path. Soon after, his keen ears picked up the ever familiar sound of hoof beats on the path.

Closer and closer the mysterious rider drew, allowing the elven prince to discern certain aspects of the rider's nature. The rider's mount was a dusky white creature bearing no bridle or saddle. Unless the rider was gifted, he or she was most likely elven kind. After all, it was the elves that were famed for riding with out using any of the atypical equipment. He or she wore a long gray cloak, a deep hood covering the face and obscuring their identity further. There was no visible weapon on the rider, no sword at her hip, bow and quiver on her back. Legolas knew full well that he or she could have been concealing something and that it was smartest if his guard was kept up. Not that he had any ideas of lowering it.

With confused thoughts about the identity of the rider drifting through his head, Legolas mounted his own horse and trotted onto the path. He had every intention of meeting this rider before he or she got to deep into his home.

"Who are you and what business do you have in Mirkwood?" Legolas announced using his best court trained voice.

The horse, without an audible sound from its rider, stopped a little too close to Legolas' own creature. The rider did not pick his or her head up; seemingly more interested in the neck of the mount it sat on. Though Legolas knew many did not meet the eyes of him or his father out of deference to their position, this was uncalled for. Given the mystery surrounding the rider, he almost deemed it rude.

Several long heartbeats past in what could creatively be called silence. There was no actual silence since, after all, the pair stood in the middle of the woods. Still the figure on the dusky white mount did not speak nor did he or she lift her head up.

"Rider," Legolas called, starting to get just a wee bit annoyed with the given situation, "I ask you again, who are you and what business do you have in Mirkwood?"

The thought that, perhaps, this rider did not understand his common speech entered into the prince's mind. Acting on those thoughts, Legolas repeated his queries in Elven speech as well.

"Is the queen not allowed to come back into her own kingdom," the figure, suddenly, asked in an almost mocking tone, "or have father and son forgotten about her?"

Legolas found no humor in the rider's questions. If he or she was joking, there was nothing funny to be found in the words the rider chose to use. Though she had passed many, many years earlier, Legolas still missed his mother. He thought of her often now, wondering just what she would make of Emma.

"The queen?" he quipped, his tone lacking any humor in it to show the rider he found nothing amusing in his or her words, "The queen passed many thousands of years ago. The spiders attacked and killed her. I do not know who you are but you are not the queen of these woods."

Composing himself, Legolas continued, "I do not want trouble nor do I want to bring you to Thranduil as a prisoner. Please, speak the truth and tell me who you are and why you have come to the forest of Mirkwood."

The rider, much to Legolas' chagrin, chose not to answer again. Instead she- the voice had a distinctly female quality to it- slipped of her horse, soundlessly landing on the path the creature stood on.

Not wanting to get into a confrontation but feeling as if that was the inevitable outcome now, Legolas did the same. The rider approached the Prince, stopping when they were only a few inches from each other. Like a cat about to spring, Legolas prepared to counter whatever attack this mysterious rider was about to unleash.

The attack never came.

Instead, the rider pushed off her hood, running a hand over her hair even as Legolas stood dumbfounded, in open-mouthed surprise.


	7. Stupisca

An: Again, sorry about this update taking so blasted long. I really keep trying to update sooner but it seems the world has something against me right now. Lately, it's been my sister not leaving me alone long enough to do just about anything. Apparently, it's more important for me to type all her conversations with her little friends instead of getting my own work done. I know more about her gossip then she does, I think. That can never, ever be a good thing! Anywho, I'm glad you wonderful people are putting up with my tardy updates and not flaming me for them. I'm trying! Really I am! To my ever wonderful reviewers, you all are the best!

Kerla: Sorry this wasn't updated sooner! Here's the next part, as quickly as I could get it posted up! Hope you like it!

LalaithoftheBruinen: You shall see fairly soon who the mystery rider is. Perhaps it is his mother or someone else. I'm glad you like it and I'm sorry for making you wait for the update. I do hope waiting didn't cause you any irreparable harm.

Horsiegurl: All your answers will come in time, especially those that have to do with Legolas and his mother. Sooner then you think, actually. Hopefully, you'll like the answers you receive.

Elven Script: Well, I'm glad to hear you had fun in the good old United States! Where did you go in the USA? I'd like to visit England someday, as well as a few other parts of Europe. Anywho, I'm glad you liked the chapter and here's the next part!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

All Legolas could do was stare. That was it. The elven prince who had faced many dangers as one of the members of the Fellowship of the Ring and had fought in the decisive battles that helped to free Middle Earth from the shadows of evil and the horror that would have been rule under Sauron was only able to gawk at the figure before him in opened mouth, abject shock.

He tried to form words, to say anything to make himself look a little less foolish but no words came. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water a few times before he decided to shut it all together. No sense in adding that sort of foolishness to everything else that seemed to be taking place at the moment.

The other rider- Her hood now resting neatly on her shoulders- looked at him with a strangely amused expression on her elven featured face. Her features were quite similar to Legolas' but there were certain very subtle differences between the pair. Hair and eye coloration was shared between the two, though, oddly enough, the colors nearly matched Emma's as well.

She placed her hands on her hips, taking in Legolas' total and utter shock. Wasn't this the reaction she was expecting, though? If it wasn't shock she was expecting then it was fear or hatred or something along those negative lines. After all, what was one to expect after the history between them.

Not just between the Elven Prince and the female standing before him but the history she had with Thranduil and the rest of the Kingdom of Mirkwood. Those were reactions she would worry about later. For now, though, the rider was content to watch Legolas' features run through the stages of confusion and shock.

She'd missed him something terrible during the time the pair was parted. He was one of the few things she missed about the dark, dank woods she use to call home. Maybe she missed Thranduil but, given what had transpired between the pair before she was separated from him, the rider wasn't really sure. That was one meeting, though; she wasn't looking forward to having. An active attempt would be made to keep that event from taking place for however long possible.

Almost eye to eye they stood- Legolas had grown tall enough that she had to look up ever so slightly to do so. - almost measuring each other up for some unknown reason. They were not enemies sizing each other up for battle or anything of the sort. Battle, combat, any kind of violence, was the last thing on either of their minds.

Legolas was dumbfounded by the sight that stood before his very eyes. For a long moment, he'd thought this was some kind of perverse joke by Niphredil to earn her some strange type of credibility with her jokester uncles. The longer he stood, though, the less like a joke it seemed.

There was no way it could be.

No one, lest of all Galadriel, would be cruel enough to allow her great granddaughter turn something so painful into part of a twisted joke. Not even for the amusement of her twin grandsons. Niphredil, herself, was not a cruel person and he knew she would get no real amusement out of exploiting something like that. Besides, there was no way- he assumed- for her to find information about that part of his past.

"Is the queen" the rider asked, in an almost mocking tone, "not allowed to come back into her own kingdom? Has her own son- her own flesh and blood- forgotten about her? Does he not recognize someone who had once been so close to his heart?"

Though he heard the elven female's words, Legolas paid them no heed. He hadn't a clue how Niphredil had done this, managed such a feat on her own. True, she was in Lothlorien with one of the most ancient beings known to elven kind but this kind of thing seemed even above Galadriel's skill. He had never heard of any elf who could raise the dead.

Wasn't necromancy something only the most evil, vilest of wizards practiced?

Niphredil was no child of the dark, not that Legolas could see. Her parents were good people and, though she'd been roughly raised by cruel people, Niphredil, herself, wasn't inherently cruel. True, she liked to fight and was skilled in the use of many weapons but she had honor. Honor that governed how she used her skills from the Muggle World. He could not fathom her practicing something wicked, even if its results were of the best, most shocking kind.

Though his thoughts were surprisingly streamlined and even, making sense to him, Legolas was only able to stammer, "Mother? How?"


	8. Vivo Ancora

AN: Funny story, kind of. My grandmother decided to clean one of the rooms of the house this week as a favor to my mom. She moved the box I keep all my notebooks in so I spent a while trying to find them on my own. When I didn't readily find them- Since I keep them in the case I keep my laptop in. - I asked her where she'd put the case. She said she didn't know and she'd never seen the case before. I've just now found said case. She, apparently, decided to use it as a convenient rest for some of my millions of Beanie Babies. The whole thing was effectively buried under a pile of stuffed little Beanie guys! Anywho, other than that everything is going pretty well here. I'm helping in the planning of like four trips for my Girl Scout Troop, which is always fun. Many thanks for all the reviews! You all are the best and please, feel free to keep reviewing. It always amazes me that people are bothering to read this stuff.

LJP: The look would be rather…amusing…to say the least. He's just about as shocked as anyone might be considering his position. Then again, he still hasn't realized what news he still has to give her but that's coming soon as well.

LalaithoftheBruinen: Sorry about the cliffhangers, I'm rather fond of them. Actually writing one last semester in creative writing got me into a bit of trouble but that's neither here nor there. Here's my update, as soon as I could get it typed and posted up from the innards of my computer.

Elven Script: New England's nice. I was up in Boston, Massachusetts last summer to see a Lord of the Rings related exhibit at a science museum up there. Never been to New Hampshire, though, but I heard it's quite nice there too. Anywho, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you like this one just as much!

Shay: Hiya there! It's ok about being late, I haven't been getting these chapters up in a timely fashion myself, no matter how much I'd like to really. You are very much right about how you've ordered all the people together. Many kudos to you! I'm glad you liked the song; it's a rather cool one.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

To be alive again. To be able to feel the wind in one's hair and the sun on one's skin. To be able to feel anything at all, really. Even the clothing against her skin and the feel of the horse's mane in her hands as she rode towards her destination were things she was relishing. The simple, tactile things gave her great joy at the moment. It was like seeing the world for the first time. She now knew how a baby felt as they experienced things for the first time.

After being trapped so long in a world where one felt nothing this was one of the best feelings in all of Middle Earth to the returning queen at the moment. To be a substantial being with full use of their senses was something that she had, once, only dreamed of recapturing again. This was a dream come true, the realization of many long years of sadness and self torment. Of worrying about what was happening to the home she once lived in and those she had once cared for. Truly, this was the best feeling in the whole of the world.

Maybe not the best feeling, really. Perhaps there was something greater, something more, something better and more powerful than the sheer exhilaration of being able to feel once again.

The fact her son- Her little boy.- was standing in front of her a fine, grown elven male was the best feeling in the world. There was a certain amount of pride that coursed through her as she looked at him. He was a prince now, no longer the little elven child who had bore the title and little else. He was no longer riding through the woods in grass stained clothing, looking for trouble in defiance of his father's rules. Now, he had ridden out from the home she once lived in with a purpose.

That being, to find her. Not her, per see, but the surprise that Niphredil- The strange combination of elven child and mortal human she was. - had written him about. It just so happened that this surprise was one thing he would never expect.

"Hence, the surprise factor," she mused, pausing for all of a moment as she tried to collect herself.

There was so much she wanted to tell her boy, so much she wanted to know from him. No words came, though, as she opened her mouth to talk with him. As stunned as he was, his mother was equally stunned as well.

Stunned by how much he'd grown. By the sheer fact he had not forgotten her. The latter being something she feared as she tried to race back to the eaves under which she had grown.

Young elfling or not, she threw her arms around her son, pulling him into a very tight embrace. To be able to do this, to feel him return the embrace as he had many long years ago, was another feeling she realized that she had missed. He was nearly her height now, but that mattered not. To her, he was still her little boy.

Much to her surprise- Well, she assumed it was to her surprise anyway. - the queen felt tears streaming down her face. The little trails of moisture that the tears created down her face was something she'd forgotten about. When was the last time she cried in this world? The last fight she'd had with the king, her husband, she guessed.

Though she loved the king with all her heart, there had been a certain tension between them in the years before her passing. Something was going on in his heart, something she couldn't understand or chose not to understand. He'd never expressed any unhappiness with her but, after speaking with certain people, his attitude had changed. He'd become cold and hard, immobile as stone and about as forgiving.

"But how?" Legolas asked, again, pulling away from his mother and looking at her with glad eyes.

It upset him that she was crying but he assumed those were tears of joy or of some other positive emotion. She wasn't crying because she was hurt or displeased at his appearance. The tightness of the familiar embrace was enough to attest to that fact.

She held her son at arm's length, getting a good look at him again, for a moment before speaking.

"There was a young lady- She called herself Niphredil, like the flowers in Lothlorien. Though it was an odd name because she was not as white as those blooms. Rather, she was dark of hair and eye. - who came to find me in the Halls of Mandos. She was from the land of the living which struck me as odd since the dead do not suffer the living to pass among them but she was disguised as a bright figure," the queen, her name being Algernil, stated.

She paused her story, gathering her thoughts. They seemed to be a bit muddled at the moment, as if her mind was still in disbelief as to what had taken place. That was partially true, of course, as Algernil could not believe she was among the living again.

Continuing, she spoke, "She offered me words from the Lady Galadriel that seemed to confuse her. They made sense to me, though, an almost perfect sort of sense. She also presented me with the offer walk, once again, with the living. It is that offer I took and here you see me now, returned to you and your father."

An odd look crossed over Legolas' face as his father was brought up. He had not forgotten about the meeting he was supposed to have with the ruler of Mirkwood. He'd gotten…distracted…by the return of his mother. If he knew Thranduil- and Legolas thought he had his father pretty much figured out- the older elven male had gone out hunting and left one of his many reagents in charge of the kingdom.

Still, he knew he was in for an earful later on, if their paths crossed within the walls of Mirkwood. That could be easily avoided, given his current charge.

"What words did the Lady Galadriel have for you, _nana_?" he asked.

Algernil looked at her son once again and gave him a soft smile. She was pleased to see that Thranduil hadn't turned her boy into a cold, hard, creature like he, himself, had turned into. He was still questioning things in that strange child-like way children asked questions, instead of demanding answers like his father had done- Probably still did- on several occasions.

"She reminded me of something that I had nearly forgotten about in my dreary years in the Halls of Mandos. The past had come to the present and all the words she had once spoken to me had come to pass," Algernil answered.

A new sort of smile- One that was nearly wistful and wanting- danced across her face and settled in her eyes as she added, "And that the child I was long denied has come but requires my aid."

For what seemed like the millionth time today, a confused look crossed Legolas' face. He wasn't quite sure what his mother was speaking of. She was barely even making sense to him. Unless this was some strange effect from the crossing into this world, he could not find any reason to ascribe her strange speech to some kind of madness. As a matter of reference, she seemed as sane as she had ever seemed to him.

"Where is your wonderful father, anyway?" Algernil asked, eyes roving around the area she and Legolas were standing in.

She had half expected to see him here with her son. There was also the fact that he might have passed as she had. That did not seem likely, though, considering the fact she had not seen him walking among the dead. True the number was vast but those that were together in life often found their way together in death as well. That had not been the case.

Besides that, if Thranduil had passed and Legolas crowned ruler of Mirkwood, he would not have gone to answer Niphredil's summons alone. More correctly, he would not be allowed to. There were royal guards who were responsible for keeping the royal family safe from attack.

Guards that were not there when she'd needed them most and appeared not to protecting her son. Then again, Legolas had always shown a great aptitude for taking care of himself. Even before she passed, he had started to show great skill with the bow.

"Out hunting I suppose," Legolas answered, "I was supposed to speak with him before his departure but Niphredil's note provided a much needed distraction."

Something in her son's tone puzzled Algernil. It hadn't been there while he was speaking to her about how she had come to Middle Earth once again and, most certainly, not there when he had questioned her about Galadriel's words. It almost seemed like Legolas wanted to get away from Thranduil that he was looking for any excuse to get away from the king.

If Thranduil had done something to hurt her son, there was no standing royal guard that could save him from her wrath. As it was, she had reason enough to be angry with her spouse.

Perhaps that was a small part of the reason why she'd been brought back, to find the truth about certain things.

"Why do you want to get away from your father, Legolas?" she asked, trying to puzzle out the reason behind his sudden change in tone.

Legolas wanted to tell her exactly why, to give her the truth behind his strained relationship with his father but found he could not. Algernil deserved the truth but he was unsure of how to tell her it.

How could he tell her that his father- Her husband- had been unfaithful to her memory after her death? That a single even had swelled their family by one and that the one individual was not only his little sister but princess as well.

He hadn't the heart to tell her about Emma. Legolas was sure he did not even know where to start. Still, he knew it was better the words come from him and not from his father. He could be far more careful with that sensitive piece of information. Tell her what happened and allow her to decide for herself.

Still, in his heart of hearts, Legolas fervently hoped that his mother would be a little more accepting of his sister than his father was. He wasn't sure if he could deal with two parties that were totally hostile towards Emma. He didn't know if even Shannon's strong spirit- A combination of the fierce warrior she had once been and the viciously protective mother she was now. - could protect Emma from that kind of anger.

"May I be allowed to tell you later, _nana_? I would rather tell you while we are safely within the confines of our home," Legolas broached, his answer unexpected by his mother in every way, shape, or form.

Still, Algernil allowed him to demure from answering the question…for now. She was not sure how safe the woods of Mirkwood anymore despite the fact Niphredil had assured her that the shadows that had once covered Middle Earth were slowly retreating. They receded the slowest in Mirkwood, though, according to the girl for the forest was vast and dark.

Algernil wasn't entirely sure what shadows Niphredil had spoken of but she allowed the girl to continue speaking. That seemed to help her along in the strange situation she was recovering from.

"I look forward to seeing Mirkwood once again, my son," she said with a smile, "It has been many years since I looked upon my home."

"Then I will allow you to see your home once more," Legolas called in reply as he climbed on his horse.

Tugging her hood over her head again, not wanting to reveal her presence to the others in Mirkwood just yet, Algernil mounted her own horse. Behind her son she rode, with her head nearly pressed against the neck of her horse in an effort to appear as just a weary traveler-Maybe even a Ranger who had gotten himself lost within the labyrinthine confines of Mirkwood. Her eyes, however, did catch the long look he cast as they passed one of the practice fields that seemed to be teeming with busily working elven children.


	9. Madre e Figlio

AN: Welcome to the end of the semester fun for me! I have many a paper and final to take so I'm sorry for this being late. I just had to write a paper for my Plagues and Humankind class and an annotated bibliography for my Film History class. Actually, the latter was a good time. I did the relationship between _Metropolis_, this silent German movie from like 1940, and the movie Blade Runner and two animated shorts from _The Animatrix_. While I'm trying to muddle my way through all this madness, I'm trying to get ready for graduation. Picking up my gown, cap, and a strange looking hood I have to wear (something about it showing my major and the school…I don't know.) as well as a dress and stuff. Anyway, thanks for putting up with my ever annoying tardiness and thanks, as always, for your reviews. You guys rock!

LJP: It was the song I was listening to at the moment but I had to take it out as per the site's new rules or something. Anyway, I'd imagine his look to be something like that too. Not exactly something you'd see everyday, after all. You shall see what the queen has to say about Thranduil's daughter relatively soon. As for Niphredil and Legolas, I'm not exactly sure what to do about them. Any suggestions?

LostSchizophrenic: I'm glad you like the chapter and the story! Here's the next part as soon as possible.

Lindiel Eryn: No worries. I know all about fun with applications. I had to sort my own out earlier in the semester. You shall see what the queen does about Emma very soon. As for Thranduil, he may get what's coming to him in more ways than one and from more than one person.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"There's something about your father you do not want to tell me. Am I correct, Legolas?" Algernil asked, once back in Legolas' quarters.

The ride into Mirkwood had been uneventful for the pair, Legolas using a back way to get into his home. Hooded and cloaked as she was, Algernil looked like a lost traveler who had managed to get lucky and meet someone in the woods to save their skin. Even with the shadows receding, Mirkwood was not exactly the safest of places to travel through without a guide who knew what they were doing. No one would suspect that she was the once queen returning to life and excited to be alive.

Legolas looked around, anywhere, everywhere but not at his mother. How in all of Middle Earth was he supposed to tell her about Emma? How was he supposed to know how she'd react to the fact his father had been unfaithful to her memory and had a daughter? What was he supposed to do if Algernil decided not to accept Emma and went along with his father's feelings?

He wanted to get away, to go and find someplace else to be. Maybe make an appearance on the practice field and watch the young elflings at work. Visit with his sister before the bottom fell out and the world came crumbling down around him.

Algernil, ever the mother, noticed that her son was avoiding her gaze. He was looking here and there, like he had when he was a young elfling who had done something horridly wrong and caused chaos in Mirkwood. There was something not right here and Algernil wanted to know what it was.

"Legolas, please," she said to her son, "I know there is a reason for my returning to life and I know that reason involves your father somehow. I cannot discover this reason if you do not tell me what has happened within these halls."

Legolas sat, giving his mother the most honest of looks. He had to tell her the truth, as he had when he was but a child. There was never any lying to her, never an escaping from admitting what he had said or done. The charges leveled against him always found their ultimate truth when he was with his mother.

"Something has happened, _nana_, something that is very hard to me to explain. Something I worry about telling you because I do not know how you will feel about the results," Legolas, gingerly, answered.

"No ills have ever come from speaking the truth, my son. Tell me what has happened and give me the freedom to decide how I feel," she retorted, her voice as strong and as gentle as it had been when he was a child.

With an almost resigned sigh, Legolas simply stated, "Father got involved with one of your handmaidens after your passing."

"Which one?" Algernil wanted to know, some venom creeping into her once warm and strong voice.

"It matters now. She was killed, along with most of her kin trying to get to the Grey Havens. What does it matter is this…something came from that affair," he answered, gingerly.

Algernil started, confused, at her son as he explained, "Father has a daughter who, by no fault of her own, just returned to Middle Earth. She has come into the lives of my father and I in the recent future."

Seeing that she was still confused, Legolas launched into an explanation of how Emma had been taken from Mirkwood when she was only a few hours old and returned as a young child with her parents in tow. Her adopted parents, one who had her roots in Middle Earth and discovered who she was along with her adopted daughter.

Legolas expected her to be furious and to react badly to his news. Trusts had been broken, lives changed in many ways all because of his father's actions. Maybe, Legolas wanted Algernil to react badly, to rant and rail against his father and the actions he'd committed. As odd as it seemed, he wanted his mother to get angry. Something he had assiduously avoided when he was a young elfling.

Instead, much to his surprise, Algernil started to laugh. Not that angry, dance on your bones kind of laughter or the laughter of someone who had recently gone mad. Rather, it was the laugh of someone who knew something and that something had come to light.

"It serves him right," Algernil said, amid her mad laughing.

This was not the reaction, the words, the actions, he was expecting.

"What do you mean _nana_?" he asked his own voice curious.

Calming herself, Algernil answered, "Your father wanted no more children after you came into our lives, my son. He had gotten word that if were to have any more children, he would be blessed with a daughter. Thranduil wanted to spare you having to share the throne despite the fact I wanted another child."

"He prevented you how?" Legolas questioned, not really sure what his mother was referring to.

"There are ways," she answered, "ways your father knew. It matters little, though, since he still got what he deserved. I am glade to see fate is not without a sense of irony."

To her statement, she added, "When do I get to meet this daughter of your father's?"

Legolas cringed at that phrase. To call Emma Thranduil's daughter was akin to high treason. His father did everything in his power not to associate himself with his much younger daughter. That included disavowing any knowledge of her and pretending she didn't exist.

If one were to dare to connect the pair, they were in for trouble.

"Her adoptive parents are away for a time and she is in my care now. Once she returns from her lessons, you may speak with her," Legolas answered.

Thinking quickly, he added, "I should warn you, though, Emma is unlike any elfling you are likely to meet. She was raised in a different world with a different kind of family and she may not trust you right away."

"What do you mean?" Algernil questioned.

With a sigh and an uncomfortable shift, Legolas pointed out, "Father does not like Emma and he makes these feelings perfectly clear to her. That is why she stays with me and not with him. I must warn you that she may feel you will be the same."

"Well, she will learn, then…she will learn," Algernil commented, as she settled in with more questions about what had taken place in Middle Earth while she was "gone."


	10. Introduzioni

AN: Hi Everybody! As of last Friday, I am officially a college graduate! I had my degree (Bachelor of Sciences) conferred in Lincoln Center-Avery Fischer Hall. Now it's on to Graduate's School. Two more years of school for me! (Yes, I'm crazy. Yes, I do like school!) The best gift I got for graduation was four tickets to see Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith at 12:01 AM the Thursday it opened. The movie was beyond excellent, though it was a lot darker than any other Star Wars movie. Anyway, I'm sorry for the delay because, other than graduation, I got stuck planning a talent show for my Girl Scout Troop as well as a trip to the circus. I'm better now though, having stuck the end of the year ceremonies on one of the other leaders. Hopefully she won't pass it back on to me since I planned it last year. Thanks for the reviews and I'm hoping now that I'm on vacation, I can update more often.

LalaithoftheBruinen: I totally understand about being confused. Happens to everyone once and a while. I'm glad you liked the chapter and I apologize for the delay on the next one. Here it is, though, fresh from the guts of my computer.

Elven Script: Quite alright, no need to apologize. I wish I could update a bit more as well. Everything is going to get sorted out one way or another for good or for ill. Depends on the characters and who's doing the sorting, actually. I am happy though you liked the chapters!

Shay: You'll see how Emma gets the news broken to her and how she reacts to said news. Probably going to be somewhat of a shock to her. Not as much of a shock as finding out she's an elf, though but maybe up there. Fire and Ice, actually, have their own story in the works mostly to show just why Fire's so argumentative and why Ice is one of the few people in charge of keeping her in line. I just have to add the finishing touches on that story, though. Anywho, here's some more of the adventures of Emma and Legolas.

pixie88: Finals are always a good time and they have that strange ability to make one person very crazy. I completely understand. More about Algernil will be revealed in time, including how she reacts to what her husband did. Wait no more, though, as her meeting with Emma should be taking place relatively soon. It just might go a bit better than Emma's first meeting with her biological father…possibly.

Lindiel Eryn: Ah yes….the meeting with Thranduil. That should be coming up soon and it may not go as Thranduil expects it to go.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Emma had to admit that it had been a good day for her where her studies were concerned. Her grasp on the native language, so to speak, was slowly getting better and the work in the other lessons she was assigned was slowly getting easier. She just had to put her mind to the task and hope for the best.

There was just one strange thing about the lessons she took inside the palace walls. The instructors seemed to show her a strange type of differential respect. Emma assumed it had to do with her position as princess but she was never totally sure. Sometimes it seemed to be a positive sort of respect, an almost helpful or friendly attitude from the instructor in question.

There were a few cases, though, where she was met with an almost grudging respect. A sort of hidden hostility that wasn't given out in the open because it might amount to treason or something. If treason existed in Middle Earth. Either way, it was those classes Emma tried to keep a positive attitude in. After all, she'd managed to survive the openly hostile dancers she had once danced with. Why shouldn't this situation be any different? At least, in her mind there were no differences.

Thankfully, she'd only had one of the hidden hostile instructors today. Now that, in her opinion, was a very good thing.

She walked the familiar route to her brother's quarters, mind still playing out what had taken place on the practice fields today. She wasn't a warrior by any means, not like her friend Niphredil, but it was an interesting art form to learn. There was something very balletic about it, though she much preferred the arts to the sword or the bow or her bare hands.

They'd been working with practice swords, strange blunted metal things that she figured were used on movie sets in the Muggle World, the frustrated instructor trying to show them how best to block unfriendly attacks. Maybe even friendly attacks in the case of a spar with another student or a friend. Either way, things weren't going well as many of the students were complaining of numb hands from taking blows that were too hard or being treated with kid gloves because they thought they were tough.

Emma was of the small minority who believed neither. She could feel both her hands, even as they gripped tightly to the sword in her hands, and, well, she wasn't too sure about the kid gloves thing. If they were treating her gingerly, she was glad because this wasn't her area of expertise. Later, when she was with the dancers, it might have been a different story.

The class had ended with the instructor giving them a "special treat." Maybe the kind of treat Spiro would have enjoyed but not so much Emma. He was allowing them to pose challenges to one another and "lightly" spar each other. Many of the young elven males reveled in challenging each other much in the same way normal, human boys like to show off. One of the boys in the class, though, deviated from the norm and decided to pose a challenge to her.

Emma knew she couldn't refuse- After all, the pride of the ruling family was at stake here. - but she wasn't really keen on the idea of taking this boy up on his challenge. With a resigned sigh, she went against her better judgment and took the boy up on his challenge. Much to her surprise and, probably, the surprise of everyone else on the field with her, she managed to best the boy in their short spar.

Maybe that earned her some more grudging respect and maybe not but it was an accomplishment in Emma's mind. Something she wouldn't have been able to do in the Muggle World, she figured.

"All in all, a good day," she decided, as she made her way down the final corridor to her brother's quarters.

Once there, Emma regarded the door for a moment. Something told her that she was in for a shock if she stepped through that doorway. A strange feeling in her gut or something. She couldn't stay.

Still, it wouldn't do if she stood in the doorway all evening. With a polite knock to herald her arrival, she let herself into the room.

The conversation on the other side of said door stopped as a small figure entered into the room. With interested eyes, Algernil watched as the young elven maiden make her way towards her son. With the nearly alike physical traits- starting the newly brought to life queen since the pair had somewhat different parentage- there was no mistaking who she was.

Emma's eyes went from her brother to the strange female he was speaking with. The young girl wasn't really sure who she was, having never seen her before. Her questioning stare, eventually came to rest on Legolas.

"She's confused," Algernil mentally, mused, "Poor child."

"Did I come at a bad time? I could go to your dad's study for a while or I could go back to my home until later," Emma asked Legolas, sounding a bit baffled.

Emma started to inch towards the door, just in case she was asked to leave. Made for an easier retreat or something to that effect.

"Emma," Legolas laughed, "come back here and sit down. There's I'd like you to meet. You did not come at a bad time."

The young elven maiden inched back towards her brother and sat down next to him. For a long moment, everyone in the room sort of stared at one another, unsure of what to say or do next. Uncomfortable under a dual set of eyes, Emma dropped her own gaze to her feet. At least feet didn't stare back.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked, unsure of what else to really say and figuring this might have something to do with Thranduil.

"Far from trouble, Little Elf," Legolas replied, "I would like you to meet Algernil…my mother."


	11. Ma Come

AN: I'm sorry for the prolonged absence for the world of fanfiction. Strange as it may sound for a person who hand writes all her stories before hand but the muse seemed to take a flying leap and disappear on me. I have no idea why and really wish I could give all of you a really good reason. Alas I have none. It was more like I just couldn't bring myself to type anything up to post on the site. Hopefully, I'm back now and since it's summer and I'm free from school and dance class and Girl Scouts, I'll be able to get things back to normal. Anyway, I hope all of you reviewers stick around to review again. There's a bit more on the ride for this and my other stories.

Lindiel Eryn: That movie was most definitely awesome! I greatly enjoyed the lighstaber duel at the end between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'm very glad George Lucas decided to go with the classic way the duel was supposed to go rather than something else. I also enjoyed seeing Chewbacca with the rest of the Wookie Army. Got to love the Wookies! It was the only part of the movie my mother liked actually.

Elven Script: Chocolate's good for you, or so I've been told. Besides, being jazzed on chocolate is good fun. I'm glad you liked the fact Emma won and I apologize for the delay. I'm glad to have my muse returned to me.

Shay: Thank you and I'm kid of glad to be out of college. My school was getting on my nerves because it was so small. I'm not minding the few extra years, though. I like going to school and it beats having to go into the "Real World." Emma is sort of stuck in the middle of everything and her biggest allies, her adopted parents, aren't around to back her up. Have no fear, though, since her big brother's around, though, he may not be able to do much.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

That Legolas introduced the woman- Elf? - sitting with him as his mother made no sense to Emma. When she had first come to Middle Earth, not by her own volition but at the hands of her biological father and with some trickery involved, Legolas had told her about his mother. It was the reason they were half siblings rather than full siblings. Though the latter couldn't be assured if she remembered her science correctly. That had never been one of her best subjects in school in the Muggle World. She'd always been more geared towards the arts but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

Back and forth her eyes went as she tried to find some sign that she was being told a story. That her brother was lying to her despite the fact she had never known Legolas to do that. He was always honest with her or, at the very least, she hoped that he was.

Emma had to admit that the two of them looked quiet alike. More alike than Legolas and their shared father, Thranduil. Actually, and oddly enough, Emma thought that she shared some features with this woman as well.

Unless things were different here, and she knew them not to be, that was an impossibility. Her mother had been someone else, someone who had died just after she was born because Thranduil did not want to admit his transgression. Emma had assumed she, too, would not have been counted among the living if not for the timely intervention of a portal traveling wizard named, Patrick.

That was neither here nor there at the moment, though. Emma knew that she had to say something, lest she seemed rude. The problem was Emma was not all together sure what to say. How did one approach someone they knew to be dead and, against whatever odds existed in Middle Earth, had come back to life?

Unless, of course, she hadn't been dead in the first place. Perhaps her brother had been mistaken, been misinformed. He hadn't known about his father's actions after his mother's death and hadn't known about her until he had come looking for her. Though she highly doubted it, maybe the noble race of elves was as error prone as the race of men was.

Finding her voice after what seemed to be an age or so, Emma tentatively broached, "I thought your mother died, Legolas. You said she was killed by the spiders in the woods."

The young elven child wasn't sure what sort of response her words were going to get, as she looked at both Legolas and the woman who was claiming to be his mother. Neither of them looked angry, which was a good start she figured. Especially if the woman was really her brother's biological mother. It was enough that one of the members of the ruling family didn't seem to have any particular love for her.

To have another that was also working against her, didn't seem like a very good thing since her adoptive parents were not there to defend her. Well, more her adoptive mother but that was a wholly different story at the moment as her adoptive mother was fated to care for her according to some.

"I was killed by the spiders that inhabit these woods which was a most painful experience- What did you call her Legolas? - Emma but I have returned," Algernil said, answering for her son, "There are still things that need to be done, I assume, which was why my return was allowed. I can only assume that the spirits in the Halls of Mandos would have prevented it if not for that fact."

Emma blinked a handful of times as if clearing her eyes was going to change what she had heard. Her brother hadn't lied to her and his mother had been killed; Algernil had said it herself that she had been killed. It seemed to go against the laws of nature, though, that she had been allowed to return. From what Emma knew about elven lore- A mere fraction when compared to what some of her instructors knew, really. - souls were not allowed to leave the Halls of Mandos unless they chose to be reborn into their own families.

Algernil was no baby, Emma could plainly see. Rather, if she had to take a guess, she was far older than her own adoptive mother. A fact that was likely given the long lives of elves. Besides, Emma knew the point was moot in trying to guess the ages of elves. Most of them kept their youthful looks despite their advanced ages.

"How?" she asked, "I didn't think things like that were possible."

"Impossible as it may seem, Emma," Algernil answered, still speaking for her son, "someone I believe is one of your very close friends possesses the ability to return those who have died to life."

"One of my friends? I'm not sure I follow what you are saying," Emma blurted, directing the question to her brother though she wasn't sure he knew the answer to begin with.

Her list of friends in Middle Earth was rather short and, of those individuals, Emma was sure she had never heard of any of them brining anyone back from the dead. Unless they hadn't told her which was entirely likely.

"As I recall, Emma, you could Niphredil as one of your friends, do you not?" Legolas responded, "It was she who brought my mother back to life. As for the ability, I think I may be correct in believing that she has only just learned of them."

"I think so, too," Emma agreed, "She's only just come to Middle Earth and that is an ability that would not come into use in the Muggle World, I assume."

Thinking a bit faster than she figured she was capable of, the young elven child added, "Where is she now?"

"She resides in Lothlorien with her great-grandparents," Legolas answered, "I can only guess that it is only there that her abilities could function. Not in that world you came from, despite the fact her friends and circumstances were very different from yours."

"What circumstances would that be?" Algernil questioned, leaning forward to speak to Emma face to face.

Partly because she wasn't sure it was proper to reveal her own past and partly because she wasn't really comfortable in the situation- More like afraid of doing something that would earn her another enemy among the ruling family- Emma, suddenly, blurted, "It was very nice to meet you, ma'am, but I have some homework to do."

Though her voice was tense, her tone was about as polite as one could expect from someone speaking to the newly returned Queen. Even if she was scurrying from the room like a scared little rodent, Emma figured it was best she minded her manners. Put on a good show and all that as she hurried towards Legolas' study to begin her homework and to try and put her confused thoughts in order.


	12. Motivi per Timore

AN: Hi all! I hope summer's going well for all of you. I just came back from Boston and Salem for the weekend. It was pretty cool to see all the stuff about the witches in Salem. I even got the chance to walk a few graveyards at night. Alas, though, I didn't get to see any ghosts though one of the tour guides managed to scare my sister so badly she turned as white as a ghost. That probably has to count for something, right? Anywho thanks for all your reviews and for putting up with the sparse updates. I'm really glad some of you are sticking around for the ride no matter how slow it seems to be going for me recently.

Elven Script: Emma's just a little confused to say the least. She was marginally afraid of the fact she was an elf and now the dead are coming back to life around her at the hand of one of her friends. Not exactly something normal, I guess, even by elven standards. As for my wayward muse, I think I have it tied down again so I hope things will get better!

pixie88: I'm glad you liked the few chapters! As for Emma, Legolas, and Algernil, there's going to be some more interaction between the three of them in the near future since they all have to figure each other out. As for Emma, she still has to figure out if she can trust the newest addition to the royal family lest another enemy shows up to bother her and make her miserable. Thranduil's going to find out about Algernil eventually too (probably sooner rather than later) since he doesn't know his wife is back. He also doesn't know that she knows about Emma and how she came to be. Not a good thing to say the least!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

For a long moment, there was a tense silence between Legolas and Algernil. Both were trying to figure out what to make of what had just taken place within the confines of their room.

While Algernil was lost on how to feel about the little elven child, her son was confused for a totally different reason. It was so strange for Emma to act the way she had. She was usually a very welcoming little girl, friendly after a few moments. Yes, Emma always came off shy and reserved but she wasn't truly. There was something rather friendly about her no matter how closed off she first seem.

That was how Legolas saw it when Emma was with anyone except their shared father. Thranduil's open hostility was met with silence and downcast stares from Emma. She was playing the role of a dutiful daughter- Though Legolas suspected there was a good bit of fear involved in that role too- while her adoptive mother raged a private war with Emma's biological father.

Still it was strange for her to dart off like that. She wasn't one to normally escape from a meeting like that. Their own first meeting some time ago, in Legolas' mind, didn't really count. They had both been tentative and, frankly, his announcement was unexpected and scary. He really shouldn't have expected her to act differently.

"She doesn't like me," Algernil stated, breaking the heavy silence that hung between mother and son.

She figured it had to be said and felt much better now that it was out in the open. It wasn't the first time someone had openly disliked her but Algernil figured it was a conclusion that shouldn't have been reached on the first meeting. Maybe the second or third but most certainly not the first. Neither one of them had time to really get to know the other unless Emma had some power she wasn't aware of. After the display Niphredil had put on, Algernil was ready to believe anything was possible.

"_Nana_, Emma barely knows you. She is not one to jump to conclusions like that from the outset," Legolas assured his mother, privately hoping his words were true.

Even if there was the slimmest of chances, he wanted Emma's actions to be just a little fluke. There wasn't anything truly normal about them and he wanted to make sure his mother understood that fact.

"Then how come she ran off like all the orcs in Mordor were chasing her?" Algernil wanted to know, giving her son a rather pointed stare.

Legolas sighed, knowing this was going to sound strange to his recently returned mother. To him, though, it was perfectly normal. Just a small part of Emma's character.

"Emma is simply afraid of you, nana. Save for myself, she does not trust the court of Mirkwood. Specifically, she does not trust our father," Legolas explained, feeling as if he had explained this to his mother before.

Even if he had- He wasn't quite sure if he had or not. - he knew it was best for him to do it again. The display Emma had just given them was reason enough to do so. Perhaps, his mother didn't really believe him when he said that Emma was skittish around members of the royal family?

"Emma is afraid of me?" Algernil asked, sounding rather stunned by that proclamation, "That is not the answer I expected, my son. I have given her no reason to fear me."

To Algernil, Emma looked like a nice enough elfling. She looked like her son which was slightly off putting to Algernil but that was a whole other story entirely. She really hadn't expected her half daughter, figuring it was best to think of Emma like that anyway, to look so much like her full son.

"She probably assumes that you are going to treat her as Thranduil does. He has no love for has and makes that fact publicly known to all in the court," Legolas explained, "Woe be it to anyone who asks about his daughter. Even with her in the room, he is liable to say that he has no daughter. It is not the nicest thing he could do to her."

"That is not the proper way to treat a child. Thranduil should know better. He never treated you that way," snapped Algernil, feeling slightly sorry for the skittish little elfling who had just fled from the room.

Maybe it was part of her mothering instincts returning to her, even if her son was fully grown and an adult in his own right. The little girl he was caring for was obviously a child and Thranduil should have known better than to treat a young one so coldly. Especially a young one who was of his blood.

"I know that, _nana_, but he persists in treat Emma poorly. It is a sorry sight to see," Legolas informed his mother commiserating with her feelings, "It is a very good thing that her adoptive parents, especially her mother, treat her so well. It is not like she is lacking in love or anything of the sort. Her mother, Shannon, would do anything for her."

With a thought, he added, "As a matter of fact, she has. She left the other world- The Muggle World as some call it- and everything familiar about it to stay here with her daughter. Though, one could argue that there were other reasons why she stayed."

Though Algernil wanted to question her son further about the reasons, she did not. The female elf assumed that it was best to wait until this Shannon person returned to Mirkwood. Then she could as her herself. That way she would not feel as if she was asking others about someone else's business.

Instead, she asked something her son could answer.

"But you like her. Why is this? Why not treat her as coldly as her own father does?" Algernil questioned, watching as her son's expression changed.

She could plainly see that Legolas did not like his motives questioned where Emma was concerned. Still, she had to ask him. It seemed better that way and more certain.

"She is my sister," Legolas blurted, " She is of my blood and I would not treat one of my family in that way, regardless of how I felt about them."

"Is that the only reason, my son?" Algernil pressed as a small smile crossed her face.

She had always enjoyed needling others with questions. Though some found it annoying, others found it as a symptom of her wanting to learn things. To understand the world around her and the people in it. That and it gave her a better feel on anything her husband might be planning. A few friendly, well placed and worded questions and one could learn anything they wanted.

"She is just a nice elfling. I was her caretaker when our father wanted her identity discerned in Lothlorien. One gets to know another well on such a journey. She is very much a child who should have grown up here but did not," Legolas admitted.

"I am sure she is better for the latter fact considering how you say Thranduil treats her," Algernil interjected.

"On that point, _nana_, I am sure you are correct. Though, I think, I would rather liked having a sister," Legolas agreed.

"You rather like having a sister now," Algernil laughed, "a sister you should see too now."

She stood and sighed. There was something she had to do no matter how much she did not want to do it. Her preference would have been to sit with her son and discuss what had happened in Middle Earth while she lay dead.

Still, no matter how much she didn't want to do it, it was best she did. If she did not, the surprise would be an ugly one.

"Where are you headed?" Legolas asked, standing as his mother did.

"To see your father," she sighed, "I should announce my presence to him before someone tells him I have returned. It is best I do this alone, my son, for I do not wish to see his wrath brought down upon you. If that were to happen then I may wind up doing something rash."

With a good-bye to her son, Algernil set out to do something she was not really looking forward to doing. That being speaking with her husband.

Someone she was sure would not be pleased with her return.


	13. Marito e Moglie

AN: Hiya all! I just came back from the Mets game and I'm glad to say they won! It was a really good game….lots of good pitching and small ball. The only downside was the fact this nutty squirrel got into the stands. It jumped on the railing and sort of stood there for a few seconds. Then it took off down the stands, jumping on people's legs, arms, backs, and laps. The poor critter got so nervous, I guess, that it leapt off the railing and into the section below my own. There he landed on some poor woman's head. She wasn't all that happy about that happening to her, I can assure you. Anyway, here's my next update, fresh from the guts of my computer. Please keep the reviews coming since they, along with my reviewers, rock like a box of socks.

Elven Script: A bashing may be on its way, though it might be of a more verbal variety. Nothing physical…yet, though I can't promise anything for later. Here's my next post though, up as soon as possible!

pixie88: Algernil is pretty much as you described her, kudos for your accurate reading! As for Thranduil's reaction to her return, that's coming up right about now and, let's just say, he's going to get the shock of his immortal life. As for your question, she's only asking to make sure his motives are true. Making sure he's not stringing Emma along for the benefit of their father. That, of course isn't true at all, much to everyone's benefit.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Though her heart was pounding in her throat and something in her gut had turned her blood to ice, Algernil knew what she had to do. Really didn't mean she had to like it but it had to be done. There was no way for her to traipse through her old home without telling her once husband. It was imperative that he know about her return, of course.

Still, it would have amused Algernil to no bitter end to just bait and switch on Thranduil. Allow rumor of her return to spread without revealing herself to him. See what the Ruler of Mirkwood did with rumor of his deceased wife's specter haunting the caverns the elves called home. Knowing Thranduil, he wouldn't really do anything but assure the people it was just a female elf who looked like his wife.

There was no specter, just alike forms and features.

Still, there was only one large and looming problem to Algernil's revelation to Thranduil. That being, she hadn't a clue where her once husband was.

Algernil figured that her revelation shouldn't be in the main hall where Thranduil held court. Everyone would know then and, at the moment, Algernil didn't want that. If there were too many individuals around, she knew full well that Thranduil would cover up his true reaction. He would put on his kingly façade and pretend to know exactly what was going on.

That was not the reaction Algernil wanted, not in the least. She wanted him to betray some mild shock at the very least. Anything else was an added bonus in her elven eyes, since Thranduil had always been an implacable fellow to say the least.

The best place, Algernil knew to spring her little trap, was in Thranduil's private study. There was a good chance he would be in there, actually, as he had just returned from the hunt or so Legolas had told her some time ago. He would be away from the court and all his little underlings- For lack of a better word to describe the minor lords and ladies in Mirkwood- for the rest of the day.

Wearing a smile of pure honey mixed with a touch of spider's venom, Algernil set off towards Thranduil's private study. A route she had known by heart when she was first alive and one she hoped hadn't changed with the times.

The heavy wooden door that blocked the study was shut tight against all in the corridor before it. For a long moment, Algernil ran a hand over the richly carved designs on the door, recalling every small figure that had decorated the portal to one of the king's private sanctums. One of the places where the ruler of Mirkwood could go and work on things in peace and quiet. Be alone with the thoughts in his mind without the eyes and ears of the rest of the kingdom on him.

Algernil knew the other sanctum of quiet and peace was supposed to be the Ruler's private quarters. Not truly private as they were usually shared with the ruler's family. His spouse and children and anyone else from his line that might have been alive at the time.

Of course, when she was alive and Legolas was just an elfling older than Emma's age, peace in Thranduil's private quarters was hard to come by. For most of her married years, things were happy and enjoyable and rather fun. Some of the best times in her life, Algernil supposed.

The last few years before her untimely demise were….difficult to say the least. That was something Algernil wanted to banish from her mind, strike from her memory, and start anew.

This was, after all, a gift in the form of a second chance. There was something she had to set right and Algernil and a sneaking suspicious she knew what it was. Maybe what wasn't the right word for it. More like "who" it was.

She knocked on the heavy door three times- the sound a dull, wooden thud that barely echoed through the hallways- before she received any sort of response.

"Enter," came the muffed voice of her once husband Thranduil, "but know that I can only speak with you for a short time. The demands of ruling weight heavily on me."

Permission granted, Algernil slipped into the room. She said nothing, the only indication of her entrance being the fact the door creaked slightly as she shut it behind her.

Algernil had to admit- Though she truly hated to do so given her new knowledge- that the sight of her once husband made her breath catch in her throat. He looked the same as she had remembered him. Well, almost the same as his bearing had changed since their last meeting in this world. There was something more regale, haughtier now. A small, invisible something that wasn't there when she was alive.

"I am truly sorry that I do not have more time to speak with you but my absent minded son forgot he was supposed to work in my stead today. I no not what that boy did with his day. He was probably with that demonic child he dares to call his sister," Thranduil commented, not bothering to look up from whatever he was doing.

That, in and of itself, annoyed Algernil almost as much as the comments he had dared to make about his son and daughter. He was just being rude in an overall fashion when she knew, once, his manners had been better.

"Should you not be calling Legolas our son, Thranduil?" she questioned, her tone honey with just a hint of venom, "Unless you were the one to carry and give birth to him alone. That is something I deem impossible though I am just a silly elven maiden and know very little."

That statement earned her a glance from her once husband. A glance that turned into a rather gawking stare. Disbelief, fear, and, of course, a healthy dose of shock danced across the rulers face as he sat bonelessly in his wooden chair.

Algernil fought the smile that wanted to dance across her face. Not really a smile, actually. More like a full on smirk. Some showing of the superiority she was feeling at the moment. Getting the upper hand in a situation was always something meant to be enjoyed. After all, one never knew when it would happen again.

"No Thranduil, my dear, you are not seeing things. I am not some specter to haunt you from crimes you have committed nor am I one who looks like your long dead wife," Algernil stated, her voice rather pleasant given the circumstances, "Know that I am your wife and I have returned to you."

"How….how can this be," the ruler of Mirkwood stammered, still trying to get over his initial shock, "I saw you die. I saw your body when it was returned to the kingdom after its discovery. The dead do not return to life. That is fact we all learn as young elflings."

"Yet I stand before you very much alive and eager to return to my place as your queen," Algernil pointed out.

Truthfully, she was never one to be the atypical submissive queen. Her role was always active, always moving, always trying to let those in the elven kingdom know she was ready, willing, and able to help. Whether or not that help was wanted or even needed was a whole other story entirely.

"Why have you returned?" Thranduil snapped, shock breaking and his words flooding back to him.

He had done something he deemed incredibly unintelligent. He had mentioned the other child, the one he never liked to bring up or admit he had fathered.

"Are you not glad to see me, Thranduil," Algernil teased, "or are they wrong when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder? I have been gone quite some time."

"My heart is glad to see you, Algernil. I have missed you greatly," Thranduil answered, getting to his feet and walking over to where his wife stood.

He went to embrace her but Algernil stepped out of his way. She stood near the doorway, hands on her hips. She had heard his admittance, after all, and was not going to let it slide.

True, she was not press him on it at the moment but she was going to let him know she had heard his words. Make sure he was aware of the fact she was aware of his little transgression. Maybe not let him know that she had met with Emma and had already formulated an opinion on her. She wasn't ready to go that far yet.

"I have heard of Legolas' sister. I know she is your daughter since she could not possibly be mine, Thranduil," Algernil stated, 'but let us not talk of her now. You wanted to know how my return came about and tell you I shall for it is an interesting story."

She watched as Thranduil returned to his large chair and beckoned for her to take a seat as well. Though the invitation was unnecessary as she was already taking a seat.

There was time, after all, after her story to let him know what she knew about Legolas and about his daughter. Lots and lots of time.


	14. Ballo dello Spirito

AN: Hey this has to be a first! I'm updating a story on time! All things considered, this is probably a good thing. My computer's been acting up all week so I wasn't even sure I'd be allowed to get on-line this week. Maybe having my computer all weird for a few days got this update up faster. I doubt my dad would be happy with that assumption, though. He's the one who had to call someone to get it fixed, though I figure he was the one who broke it in the first place. Anyway, thanks for the reviews and for putting up with the science in the previous chapter. I'm trying to cut down on the amount of science related stuff in the story or at least, the really super technical stuff. Again, thanks for the reviews, keep them coming!

LJP: That is a most excellent way of scaring your ex. Sort of a surprise in the extreme, really. Legolas will come back in a short while though I am confused by Ashes. I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you mean.

Elven Script: Oh there'll be some bashing in the future. Both verbal and physical (though only a little since I'm sure it's a crime to bash royalty or something), actually. I'm glad you liked the idea of brining back Legolas' mother. I just figured it would be something interesting to mess with between classes when I wrote this story. Don't worry; Thranduil will get what he deserves. If not from Legolas or Algernil, then from someone else who has every right to be upset with him.

(AN: The pieces of music I'm using as a template for this section- Since there's some minor dancing- are "Spotty Monster" and "Angels in America (Main Title)." That really only because those are two pieces of music I was sort of forced into listening an inhuman number of times this year in one of my dance classes. Any other piece of music can do too, though. Whatever you, my friendly reader, have in mind should work just as well!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Though Thranduil was mildly disturbed by Algernil's return- He had, like everyone else in his domain, believed she was long dead. - he tried his best to make her return seem like a normal occurrence. Like it was an everyday thing for dead queens to come back to life and walk, once again, through the places they had walked before. There was no denying the tension that existed between the pair, the unspoken, unsaid things between them that had taken place while Algernil lay dead.

He was evasive on many topics, including how Emma came to be and why the shadow was slowly but surely receding over Mirkwood, much to Algernil's annoyance. She wanted to know the truth and he was treating her like a child made of glass. The slightest jarring would cause her to shatter. To break in a million small, irreparable pieces.

Apparently, he had forgotten that she was a whole lot stronger than she looked and that unanswered questions would just breed more of the same inquiries. What questions Legolas could answer, the boy did while his younger sister watched with careful eyes. Careful but curious really, as if she wanted to know something but she was scared to say anything. She didn't seem to want to bring something up, though her eyes were asking the question for her.

Despite all the tension and the innate strangeness of the situation, Thranduil called for a feast to be had. Every elf from the kingdom found him or herself invited to the occasion. The celebration of the queen once dead and of the miracle that had brought her back to life. Though, on the latter subject's end, Thranduil failed to invite the person who had brought Algernil back to life.

In the richly decorated space- one of the largest chambers in Mirkwood- there was much singing and dancing, and, of course, feasting. The merry atmosphere was infectious, seemingly permeating the air throughout the space. Everyone seemed to be in the highest of spirits, from the oldest elven male who recalled when the king and queen had been newly wed to the youngest of elven children who had only heard stories about the king's wife and her rather quizzical ways.

Sitting at the head of the hall, at a raised table before the gathered crowd, was the ruling family. Well, most of said family anyway. Legolas sat to his father's left, staring at the crowd with an almost wishful expression on his face. He wanted to be out among the merrymakers, not stuck playing the expected role as prince. Algernil, who was sitting to her husband's right, wore much the same expression on her face. There was something else there, though. A sort of mischief that she always seemed to be residing in her face where Thranduil was concerned.

"Three chairs, Thranduil dear? Where does your daughter sit?" she asked, seemingly wondering aloud.

Legolas shook his head, stifling a laugh. He knew full well that the question was not one asked out of some kind of vague curiosity. Not in the least. This question was asked with a specific purpose, a particular reason. His mother was putting his father on the spot, watching to see how he'd react to such a question at such a time. She was trying to gauge his response to her inquiry.

"What daughter?" he replied, with a great deal of annoyance in his voice.

With responses like that, Algernil understood why Emma was so skittish around her. She was an unknown quantity and a member of the royal family. There was no was for Emma to know how she would respond to her. Nothing stated that she would like or dislike the young elfling. There was no ability Emma had that would allow her to know that Algernil meant no harm and was not going to treat her as her father did.

"I must get that little elf along and talk to her one on one," Algernil noted, trying to formulate some sort of plan to do so.

It wouldn't be the easiest of things to enact, of course, considering Emma wasn't exactly keen on speaking with her. In the rare case the two of them were alone together, Emma would retreat as if all the orcs in Mordor were chasing her.

Her reverie was broken by loud music, played brightly on elven instruments. Like a whirlwind of color- matching the exotic, almost otherworldly sounds of the music- a brightly dressed group of dancers took the floor. Each dancer, as they had paired off into groups moving skirts and arms and legs in time with the beat, wore a different color outfit. It was a simple sort of attire, a plain bodice made of some kind of shimmery material wit a flowing skirt that seemed to be made of several different layers of the same color. The colors, themselves, ranged from the deepest of ruby reds to the darkest of violets and all the shades in between. Al l wore flowers wound through their intricately braided hair.

The exotic sounding music only lasted a short time. With steps that send them backwards and side ways, the dancers arranged themselves into a large pattern. A bell signaled the change in pieces and in the attitudes of the dancers involved. Where the first piece called for a very serious, almost fierce expression, the second was lighter, more serene. It was a simple piece but one that was felt even in soles of the watcher's feet. It's repeating melodies, played on different instruments, changed only a handful of times as the dancers moved with flowing movements. For sometime, it looked like were trying to mimic the winged birds of the air, showing the same grace as the swans in Lothlorien.

The dancers were light, their movements clean and neat and, at times, simple as benefited the piece. They were trying to tell a story, though Algernil was not sure what story they were trying to tell. It must have been something different for every one of them as they danced whatever they were feeling in their hearts.

In the middle of the dance- Technically in the middle of the shorter opening piece- Algernil noticed one of the dancers clad in a bright sky blue color. She was smaller than the rest though her size was not holding her back. She dance with the same fervor as her taller companions did. Her skills were on par with theirs, her abilities matching those of the dancers around her.

Algernil nearly tipped out of her chair in shock when she realized just who this small dancer was. Standing as the end of a long line of dancers, next to someone in bight orange, was Emma. As the fierce expression faded from her face with the change of the music, her expression settled into something happy and innocent. It had to be the most carefree she had seen the young elven child since her arrival in Mirkwood.

A great difference from her usual skittish expression to say the least.

She had heard that Emma poured her heart and soul into her dancing- Legolas had told her of seeing his sister dance in the other world on a stage.- but to see it was something else. It was almost like the elven child was freer, less inhibited by those around her.

As the music faded and the dancers ended with a sweeping bow, they scattered like leaves caught in the breeze, leaving the center of the room empty. Leaving all those in the room with their thoughts on what the dance had meant and what each dancer was dancing with in their hearts, minds, and souls.


	15. Un Sorriso

AN: Hi all! Summer's rapidly winding down and fall looms ahead. Of course, falls means school for most of us, myself included. I'm headed off to Graduate's School in the fall. Don't worry, though! I'm taking later classes and I have Fridays off! I'm hoping that'll mean more on-time updates and things like that. Actually, I don't mind fall so much since it also means my dance classes start and I get to go back to play Girl Scout Leader (or Zoo Keeper, as I sometimes call myself since I have little kiddies). Anywho, please continue to read and review my most excellent readers. I really appreciate any comments you have on this story whether they are good, bad, or indifferent.

LJP: LOL…it's quite alright. I get mixed up all the time about things, especially when dance classes are concerned. If steps from different dances are alike, they're mixed up and placed in dances where they don't belong. Anywho, I'm glad you liked Emma's dancing. I wasn't sure about sticking it in there.

Elven Script: I'm happy you liked the chapter and the fact Emma's dancing again. I figure it was about the only thing she could do where she would be totally uninhibited and free. I'm glad I made you laugh! Happy I could do that, really! There'll be some bashing coming up soon! Hope you enjoy it!

pixie88: That's a very interesting take on Thranduil's little feast! It's one of those cases where he just wants to keep a normal face no matter what's going on. That includes keeping Emma as far away from him as he can. Especially since he's not sure where Algernil stands on her being there. Dancing is something that can be used to really show what a person is thinking or feeling, or so I heard from people who have watched others dance. For Emma and Algernil, dance it sort of a way for the two of them to understand each other without either of them knowing about that understanding. It'll be used later, I can assure you. Here's some more and thanks very much for the review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Algernil found it easy to track Emma's movements as the dancers scattered. She was, after all, wearing a distinctively colored costume and she carried herself different than the rest. Her height was a mild problem to say the least, as it made tracking harder but, then, the path the little elfling took seemed to be preplanned.

Probably well practiced as well since dancers were like that. Every move, every motion had to fit with the overall theme the dance master was trying to set or so Algernil heard. She had never been much for dancing but a dear friend of hers had and she tried to explain such things to her.

Emma had scattered in a larger group towards the throne. The group broke like waves on the shore and scattered into many different directions. One for every compass point it seemed. Emma took a sharp left and weaved her way through a maze of tables to appear at her brother's side.

Though Emma moved with the soundlessness of every elven being, Legolas seemed to know just when she appeared at his side. He gave her a grin and handed her a goblet full of water sweetened with some kind of berry juice. The drink struck Algernil as strange but, then, Emma had not been raised on elven food and drink. She would not be given even the lightest of wines at this celebration because of that fact. Rather, Emma would be given what was given to the smaller elven children because that was what her system could tolerate.

A smile of thanks was given to her brother as he gestured to someone for a chair for Emma to sit in. The smile faded quickly when Emma felt the eyes of her father fall on her. It was uncomfortable for all sitting at the table, to say the least, as Thranduil threw his youngest child the most scathing of glares.

A glare Legolas ignored- something Algernil applauded- as he informed his sister, in a very truthful sounding voice, "Wonderful as usual, Little Elf."

Slipping into her seat, the little elven child kept her eyes down as if she was trying to memorize he pattern on the cloth covering the table.

Still, she had the where with all, blush and answer, "Thank you."

Taking the lead, and trying to test Thranduil's reaction once again, Algernil added, "You have some skill as a dancer, young lady."

Looking a bit stunned, as if she hadn't expected the compliment from Algernil, Emma countered, "Though I appreciate your compliment, my lady that is not exactly the truth. It is just a hobby I happen to have and I happen to enjoy a great deal."

"I truly doubt that, Emma. You must have some sort of skill in order to dance with them in any type of performance. If my memory serves me correctly- and I assume it does because it seems very little has changed since I last lived- those dancers do not let just anyone into their ranks," Algernil rebuked.

She had heard, from Legolas that Emma had danced in the other world and had used that training to earn her spot among that dance troupe. The spot was not just given because she was a member of the royal family or anything of the sort. It was skill and not rank that had earned her a spot. Something that spoke to both her skill as a dancer and her character as an elf.

She would not take something offered, it seemed. Rather, that something had to be earned first.

"As you say, my lady," Emma, politely, replied.

Algernil was about to make another commented, when Thranduil cut in with, "Is there not someplace else that the little runt can be?"

Algernil and Legolas both glared at the ruler of Mirkwood. Though they had not spoken to one another, the reason for the glare was about the same. He was disrespecting his own daughter by not even calling her by name. It was almost like he was stripping her down and leaving her without anything. Not name, not title. Nothing to make her as an individual elf.

"I guess I could do sit with some of the other dancers," Emma mumbled, speaking mostly to herself and getting to her feet.

It seemed her safest bet to leave, anyway. Though she enjoyed spending time with her brother, it was greedy of her to want to spend time with him outside his own chambers. Out here, they had to put on the face of the royal family.

A family, she wasn't supposed to be a part of, according to her biological father. Not that it bothered Emma because she had a mother and a father already. Alright, they weren't related to her by blood but it was family enough for her.

Besides, it seemed Thranduil approved of her decision to sit elsewhere.

He nodded and commented, "Get going….hurry up. This table is for the royal family only. Not for children who befriend the prince."

Emma tried to hurry but, in her haste to get away, began to act in a clumsy manner. Her motions were not longer dancer smooth and organized. Her hands were fumbling and she was becoming almost frantic.

Thranduil's treatment upset Algernil to no bitter end. Illegitimate as she was, that was no way to treat a child. Especially a child who had been granted the title of "Princess" by the crowned prince.

"Emma, please stay a while as a guest of the queen and her son," Algernil offered, earning her a gawking stare from her husband and a shocked glance from her son.

Even Emma stopped stock still in her tracks. That was something she had not expected to hear from the queen. After all, she wasn't quite sure where the queen stood on her being there to begin with. Maybe this was a good sign after all.

"As you wish, my lady," Emma answered, trying her best to hide her surprise and her happiness.

As Emma sat back down next to her brother and started speaking with him about something or other- Algernil wasn't sure what they were going on about. - Thranduil threw his wife a questioning look. He, too, wasn't sure what to make of her behavior.

All Algernil responded with was a smile and a slight shrug.


	16. Prima Di Sonno

AN: Alas, alas summer is almost over. The fall is around the preverbal corner and with it comes everything else. For me, that means school, dance classes, and Girl Scouts. Of course, school also means more of an opportunity to write because I have a really bad tendency to work on stories before classes. Well, not really bad I guess since it gives me something to do that isn't reading science fiction before classes start. I don't know! Anywho, I promise to keep updating on a regular basis since I have days of and stuff in my schedule this semester. I thank all of you reviewers for putting up with my slow updates and, of course, your reviews! All of you rock like boxes of socks!

LJP: Thranduil's just a bit of a grumpy old king. He's got a few issues about acting like a proper father to his daughter. You know, I never realized that Algernil's name sounded so like the title of a book! I have read _Flowers for Algernon_, actually, but kudos on the awesome connection!

pixie88: Well, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I apologize for the mistakes. It comes from writing at really early hours in the morning. Sometimes my typing skills fall asleep before the rest of me. Algernil's one who knows how to play not only the politics game- The game her husband excels at and uses against his daughter.- but how to play the game around her husband. She's trying to see how far she can push him before deciding on what to do herself with the situation. I figured the same about the wine since they could leave it to age for a very, very long time. Not something you want to give someone with no tolerance for and who is rater young in elf years. I'm actually working on some brother/sister fun! Hope you like it!

Elven Script: Crashing computers is absolutely no fun! Mine did about the same earlier in the summer. I'm glad you liked the chapter and the fact Algernil asked Emma to stay with them. Hope you like this chapter just as much.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"I do not understand how you move like that, Little Elf," Legolas commented, as his younger sister curled herself up on his bed, tucking her kneed into her chest and settling herself in a small ball.

There was something almost feline about her movements, as she settled herself into the thick blanket that covered the bed. She watched her brother with the same eyes a curious kitten would use. Eyes that could see everything and were interested in everything in the world around her.

Emma was only interested in speaking with her brother at the moment, though. The rest of the room lay outside her interest for now.

The young girl had exchanged her dancer's garments for what amounted to pajamas in the elven world. For her that meant a larger muddy brown tunic that had been given to her father, Mitchell, and he showed no interest in wearing at any time because of its ill fit and comfortable fitting breeches. Her feet were bare but tucked into her shirt.

Even her hair had taken a more relaxed appearance. The braid that had been in it earlier had been undone and the flowers that had adorned it sat in a neat pile on one of the stands near the bed. Emma's hair fell down around her back, spreading out behind her like some kind of strange lake. Well, if a lake could be made of silvery white hair.

"It's nothing," Emma countered, "Something they teach you when you learn ballet. I remember in my classes that when you danced without grace, Spiro would publicly humiliate you. I think his favorite insult was to claim that there were animals that had more grace than you. Not little animals either. The big ones from the Muggle world."

Legolas smiled and ran a hand over Emma's hair, spreading it out further on the bed. She really did have long hair and it was more than likely that someone had put it up for her. It was far too long for the young elf to put up herself. He'd seen her mother, Shannon, sit and put Emma's hair up for her before a dance. Shannon wasn't present at the moment, though, so it was more than likely someone had taken her mother's place.

"How did I know you were going to say something like that," the older elf stated with a laugh.

He'd heard her speak very fondly about her time in the Muggle World at the studio where she danced. It struck him as strange, though, because her time at the studio wasn't exactly the best. The people she danced with were unfriendly and unkind and made it known that Emma was not welcome in their ranks.

Still, Emma danced there. Of course, it was only because of the ballet and jazz teacher she had. There was something about the rather grumpy man known only as Spiro that had given Emma a reason to stay.

"Because it's true?" Emma ventured, trying to guess at an answer.

"True it may be but I'm sure there is something unlearned in your skill. Something other than your dancing ability," Legolas pointed out.

"But aren't all elves graceful? I thought it was just part of how we are," Emma asked, pushing herself up and resettling herself on the bed.

She pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Emma rested her head on the tops of her eyes, focusing them on the taller form of her brother. She moved slightly so she wasn't sitting on her hair which was rather uncomfortable no matter how one looked at it.

"Yes, Emma, all elves are graceful. It is something that separates us from the children of men, this natural grace we have. Still, the grace you dancers have seems to exceed our normal grace. It makes you appear something that is unlike every elf I know," Legolas answered.

With a thought, he added, "Though you probably will discount it, you are a very skilled dancer. Even my mother agrees with me and this was the first time she has ever seen you dance. That is something, you know. Impressing my _nana_ like that."

At the mention of Algernil, Emma tensed. She pulled her knees closer into her chest and tightened her arm's grip around them. It was like she was trying to make herself into the smallest target possible though there was no one there to attack her.

"It was very nice of her to allow me to sit with you and Thranduil at the feast today," Emma pointed out, "she really didn't have to do that. I would have been alright sitting with the other dancers at the meal. It was only for a little while anyway."

Under normal, day-to-day, circumstances, Emma ate with her adoptive parents. She was more comfortable doing so and Legolas wasn't really keen on forcing her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. That was more their communal father's place in Middle Earth.

From time to time, Legolas paid the family a visit to eat with them. He rather liked Shannon and, of course, Emma and spending time with the two of them was really time well spent in his opinion. Of course, there was Mitchell, Emma's adoptive father. He didn't like living in Middle Earth and still hadn't forgiven Legolas for taking his daughter on a little trek through Middle Earth to discover her true identity.

It was strange that Mitchell never realized that it was Thranduil that ordered Emma's little trek and that Legolas could not refuse his father's orders without repercussions. The elven male figured it was just something the mortal man didn't want to understand since he wasn't the biggest fan of his new home.

"Emma, you had every right to sit there. My _nana_ never had to give you permission to sit there. It was well within your rights as a princess to do so," Legolas pointed out.

"But Thranduil said I had to leave. Won't your mom get into trouble for not doing as Thranduil said?" Emma said.

The young elf was quite glad to be allowed to sit with her brother at the feast, despite the fact she was all but convinced that she wasn't going to be allowed to sit with him today. It was a known fact that Thranduil didn't want her around him. He had a hatred for her that was borne of the fact he didn't want to admit he made a mistake.

Rather than admit his mistake, he kept her at arm's length. Maybe longer than that, actually, as he really didn't like having her around. That was one of the reasons, Emma figured, for his treatment of her.

According to her mother, Thranduil treated her in such a brusque manner in order to scare her off. If he was mean to her, she would be afraid and not want to be around him. Though, Shannon had also told her adopted daughter that Emma was far stronger than he had ever anticipated. The former Emma was inclined to agree with while the latter she wasn't so sure of.

"My _nana_ will not get into trouble with our father. He could never control her as he would have liked, I think. She wasn't exactly the passive queen he wanted, I believe," Legolas commented, in a hushed voice.

Emma gave a giggle, knowing she was being told something that she really didn't shouldn't have been told. She was sure Legolas really didn't mean to tell her what he had just told her but she wasn't sure.

"It was still very nice what your mom did for me. She really didn't have to," Emma informed her brother.

It was unspoken in her statement that she wasn't sure if Algernil had ulterior motives in her act earlier on in the day. Emma didn't know if Algernil wanted to be her friend- something she figured was highly unlikely all things considered- or if she was just stringing her along to drop at a later time. The latter was something Emma considered to be the more likely of the two scenarios since Algernil was married to her father and he wasn't the nicest of people to her.

"I think my _nana_ was trying to be your friend, Little Elf," Legolas told his sister, "she was just doing something nice for you."

"You mean, she wasn't just using me as a way to get back at Thranduil for whatever he did to her either before or after she died?" Emma wanted to know.

Her words surprised Legolas. He hadn't realized just how much thought Emma had put into things. Legolas also hadn't realized just how observant Emma was to begin with. Observant about the ins and outs of royal life anyone. He was sure there were other things Emma was rather observant about that suited the young elf better.

"Well, 'using' is a very strong word to use, Emma. I doubt my _nana_ was using you for her own ends. She may have been trying to get our father into a situation but she was not using you in any sort of negative way," Legolas pointed out.

He knew he was trying to justify his mother's actions but he didn't want to believe she would use Emma. That was what marked her as different from the father they shared. If anything, she was just trying to get a little revenge for Emma and, by including Emma in said revenge, it was making the action that much sweeter.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked curiously.

"Very sure, Little Elf. I have never lied to you before and plan on not doing that any time soon. My _nana_ was just having a little fun with you. She was trying to get a little revenge for you and was letting you have a hand in helping that," Legolas assured his younger counterpart.

She decided to take her brother at his word. Except for when they first met- and that really couldn't count because she didn't believe him either- Legolas had always been truthful with her. Guarded sometimes, yes, but truthful.

"That's good," Emma pointed out, "I think anyway. I just hope that he doesn't get too angry with me and think I have something to do with all of this. That would make things worse, wouldn't it?"

"Don't worry, Emma," Legolas assured his sister, "If he tries to do anything, I am very sure my _nana_ would protect you. She has always been good at things like that."

In his heart, anyway, that's what Legolas hoped. That she would take Emma to heart as he had done. The little elfling- who was creeping towards the head of the bed and trying to get under the blanket in order to get the few hours of sleep her Muggle World raised body required.- didn't need any more enemies within the palace walls.


	17. Incantato

AN: Sorry for the delay but I was having computer issues….again. My dad had to take the tower into the shop for a bit because we were having problems with the machine freezing up on us and getting all sorts of nasty pop up ads and things like that. Strange thing is that this is like the second or third time this has happened to the computer. Maybe we need to get someone else in to fix the computer! Anywho, I'm going to try to get myself back on track here and update all of my on going misadventures. I hope you're all enjoying the little misadventure that we're all on at the moment. Please, keep reading and reviewing! A review or two always surprises me and makes me feel better! All of you reviewers rock like a giant box of shiny socks!

pixie88: I'm glad you liked the little bonding time between the two siblings! I'm also glad you liked the fact Emma's on observant little elf. She is wary because of her past and the people she danced with but her dancing has also helped her look at details and see if they're important. Legolas is just concerned because she, in his mind, is too young to be worrying about the palace politics. He's also not all that comfortable about having to defend his mother, either, since he figures that she's right for doing what she's doing. The only way to get Emma to understand that fact is by defending her, though. I'll make sure to be on the look out for those late night typing mistakes!

LJP: Don't worry! No wicked step-mother's here. Maybe a wicked biological father, though. Just Emma being wary about someone she doesn't know and Legolas having to defend his mother, something he's not use to doing.

Elven Script: Crashing computers is no fun at all! All mine seems to do lately is go all strange on me. There's some bashing coming up shortly! As for Shannon, she'll get her rightful position when she returns from her little vacation away from Middle Earth (and might get to do some bashing herself).

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

It seemed to Algernil that she had entered into a never-ending cycle. Every time she would find herself with her husband's half daughter, Emma would find a reason to skitter off into the distance. Not that she was being rude or anything. In actuality, Emma was being so polite it was frightening. She was minding every one of her manners when around the newly returned queen.

Still, Algernil persisted in trying to make friends with the small elven child. Sometimes she thought she was making headway, creating an inroad to get to Emma's friendship, but the elven child seemed highly wary of her. She acted like a small animal that'd been struck one too many times. It would come close if tempted with treats but never seem to full trust anyone because of its past.

Legolas had assured her that no one had ever laid hands on Emma, lest they incur his wrath as the child was under his protection at the moment. As much as they feared her son, Legolas had informed his mother, they feared Emma's adoptive mother as well.

A figure returned from myth, Shannon was one person no one wanted to cross. Though she possessed the spirit and soul of a once great warrior, the human woman was no great shakes with weaponry at the moment. She had her flashes from her previous life but they were few and far between still.

Her greatest weapon, however, was her tongue. She had sharpened it to the point where it could inflict damage just like any weapon. She had, according to popular story around Mirkwood, given Thranduil a piece of her mind as it related to Emma.

Legolas had assured Algernil that it was not some idle gossip of the folk living in Mirkwood. Every word of the story was absolutely true as Thranduil had told him the entire story after it happened. Apparently, he wanted his son to turn against Shannon and side with him.

Needless to say, that didn't happen and wasn't going to any time soon.

Still, it confused the returned Queen as Emma continued to skirt around her, trying to be polite but avoid any direct conversation with her.

"Perhaps she things I have ulterior motives for my actions," Algernil mused, mumbling to herself as she prepared for another day at court.

Sitting and listening to the nobles- and the not so noble sometimes- complain and bicker while her husband and his gaggle of advisors listened and judged was not something Algernil missed. She had always been known as the Queen of the People, going down among the small population of elves and doing whatever it took to help them.

If that required her getting her hands dirty, then so be it so long as everyone benefited. Sitting at court with at Thranduil's side and having her words ignored….well…that was something Algernil had little love for. Sure it helped those who needed it but she felt detached from them. Sitting on her high and mighty throne while they were below them.

"You know, my dear, you do not have to be nice to the little brat. She is nothing to me and will be nothing to this kingdom, once I get my way," Thranduil informed his wife, going about his usual morning ritual and forgetting, half the time that Algernil sat in the room with him once again.

His wife's behavior towards Emma had come as a shock to the ruler of Mirkwood and dismayed him greatly. Thranduil had expected her feelings to mirror his own or be that much stronger. After all, he had "disrespected" her memory and allowed another elven female to sire a child. He had expected her to be so angered and hurt by that that she would not even accept the idea of Emma being with the son she had given him so many years ago.

The opposite seemed to have happened, though, but Thranduil was a persistent elven lord. He would keep trying to turn his wife's opinion and hope he succeeded in doing so.

"I like her very much, Thranduil, despite the circumstances surrounding her birth. She is a very polite, well behaved elven maiden and is a credit to her adoptive parents and to Legolas, who gets along very well with her. I cannot see why you refuse to do the same. It is very easy to like her and I do not understand how come you don't," Algernil countered, continuing to plait her hair and allowing a smile to cross her face.

She knew the type of response she was going to get from her husband since he could not turn down such wonderfully proffered bait. As for liking Emma, Algernil chalked it up to the fact she was a mother and, to all elven mothers, every child was a gift. Something to be appreciated and enjoyed.

Plus, on a small and selfish note, Algernil was well aware of the differences in raising a son and a daughter; though she had no daughter's herself. She was already considering asking Shannon- Once she returned home from wherever she was at the moment- if she could have a hand in teaching Emma some of the more…interesting…aspects of being a member of the royal family.

"She is still illegitimate, my dear. She had no right to title or throne or anything else for that matter. Emma is lucky I am allowing her and that horrible family of hers to stay here at the moment. You must understand what I did was in the best interest of our son," Thranduil explained, walking over to where his wife sat braiding her hair for some odd reason.

With a smile that could have cut glass, Algernil countered, "Was it not our son who allowed her to have title and rights to the throne?"

She knew the answer, of course, but baiting Thranduil had always been fun. She loved her questions now almost as much as she did when she was originally alive. They were the best way to figure someone's true motives out.

Thranduil looked absolutely livid at her comment. His face turned a very interesting shade of read and he looked as if he wanted to strike his smiling wife. Of course, he would never do something like that- It was not a very gentlemanly thing to do- but it seemed he could at that moment.

Algernil, as much as he loved her, was a thorn in his side sometimes. Her questions could drive even the most patient of elves out of their immortal minds and forever was a very long time to spend insane.

"I do not know what possessed Legolas to do something like that. Perhaps she enchanted him, somehow. I have no other way of explaining your son's rash actions. He should have known better," Thranduil spat.

Algernil wanted to laugh but knew that would only incite more arguing. The "your son" comment only came out when Thranduil was very angry. Usually he claimed that Legolas was "his son" and "his son" alone. His mother had little influence on him. Were Thranduil a tad more observant of his eldest child, he would have realized long ago that Algernil was one of the strongest influences on Legolas and not his esteemed father.

Still, she shook her head and commented, "Enchanted? Really, Thranduil, I thought you were smarter than this. She barely knew who she was and you think she enchanted my son."

Laughing ever so quietly, Algernil continued, "Perhaps you just do not want to admit that you erred in judgment and you take out your anger on an elfling that is clearly terrified of you. You can be as thick as some of the dwarf lords sometimes, my dear."

Her words held no obvious anger, though she felt it in her heart. No descent elven lord would take out his anger on a child and here was ruler of the elves of Mirkwood doing just that. All because he refused to admit a mistake made long ago.

Things would have been a whole lot simpler if Thranduil just admitted his mistake and moved on. Allowed Emma to be part of his family but, no, the dwarf stubborn Thranduil would not do that. He was going to make things difficult.

Maybe that's why Algernil had returned. To set things right again….or something like that.

"Perhaps, she has enchanted you too," Thranduil commented, as he left the room and made his way over to the throne room.

Algernil shook her head, tying off the end of her braid and arranging a small circlet of flowers on her head. Sometimes she wondered why she even married than elf in the first place. No regrets, though, since, if she hadn't married Thranduil, she would not have Legolas.

With a sigh, Algernil made her way over to throne room as well. She would allow the subject to drop for the day as she played lynchpin queen to her husband's firm king.

She'd find another way, another day, to bring the subject up again.


	18. Dopo un Pasto

AN: SORRY! I didn't mean to get behind again! I've been trying to update but the site was acting strange for me (probably my computer again) but now everything seems to be working fine for me. It's either that or I need to start picking a better day to update because, between school, dance classes, and a bunch lf lazy fellow Girl Scout leaders who like to lump their work on me, I'm running on very little free time. I'm going to try and free up some more time by giving all my fellow Girl Scout leaders back their work. They should really be doing it instead of me because I'm just the Daisy leader. As always, thanks for the reviews! They rock like a box of socks and keep them coming. I don't care if they're good, bad, or indifferent. I'm always open to everyone's opinions and I like to hear what people are thinking!

pixie88: I'm glad you liked the bit of a visit into Algernil's mind. She's really just a mother at heart so she just wants to do what's best for the little girl in her son's care at the moment. Of course, she has Shannon to contend with but that'll be dealt with later. She is really just playing detective with her husband and pushing his buttons as a way to make him, sort of, pay for what he's done. She's not sure where to go yet since coming back from the dead- Not that I would know myself- probably isn't fun. Lab and organic chemistry have a nasty tendency to take over one's life but I miss lab. None of my classes have labs attached to them this semester.

Elven Script: I do hope your computer's better! Well, he need some way to explain his son's "irrational" actions and I guess enchanted was the best one Thranduil could come up with to explain things. Not that he really believes Emma knows any magic or anything like that, of course. Bashing coming soon and I hope you get your essays done.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

It seemed strange to Legolas- and more to Emma- that Algernil had not only cooked but brought food to her son's quarters. Legolas had been expecting to either be eating alone with his sister or be forced into yet another uncomfortable diner with his father.

Presented with those choices, Legolas was more apt to pick the former over the latter. More for Emma's comfort than his own since he'd had to deal with Thranduil for more years than he cared to think about. After all, it had just been father and son for several years before his sister's appearance into their lives and his mother's return.

Thankfully, those two events had lessened the time he had to spend with his overbearing father who wanted nothing more than to turn his son into a carbon copy of himself. For the future good of their kingdom, such as it was, of course.

Once the meal had been eaten and Emma had politely skittered off to get started on something she called "homework," Algernil stated, "I spoke with your father today about you little sister and why you did what you did for her."

"What did father have to say about it this time? I'm sure I have an idea or two but one can never be too sure with him," Legolas responded, seating himself on a chair and watching as his mother took a seat of her own.

He knew, full well, that if Emma were present, she would curl up on his couch like a small, furry animal and just watch was going on. Either that or she would sprawl out on the floor- in one of old dancer's stretch poses- but still watch what was going on. Legolas knew that her eyes and ears would take in everything around her, curiosity piqued by what was going around her. She'd take in all the information she possibly could and assimilate it in whatever way Emma did such things in her still young mind.

Sometimes the fact she was so observant set her brother on edge. There were matters at court that he preferred Emma not be so observant about. He did not want her to waste her time- Even if that time was infinite as she was a full blooded elf and had the same immortality all full blooded elves who did not meet untimely demises like his mother had. - on thinking about things like that.

Legolas was almost sure there were better, more productive things for her to give her mind and her time to. One of the main ones being her dancing since she seemed to excel best at that and derive some comfort in the fact that, after everything that had changed for her in such a short span of time, she could still do something Emma deemed normal for her. Sure the stage and the music were unlike anything she had worked with in the other world but the idea and the motions were the same.

Dance was dance, as Emma was fond of saying.

"He claims that Emma….enchanted….you and that enchantment made you do what you did for her," Algernil answered, trying to stifle the laughter that was threatening to bubble up and out of her.

There was still something very amusing about the image of a little girl who hadn't a clue what she even was trying to bespell a grown elven lord. Not just any elven lord, of course, but her son. That just seemed impossible to Algernil but that could have really been the mother in her talking.

"He thinks she enchanted me! That's a new one, actually. He speaks as if he is suffering from madness, _nana_. Emma knew nothing of elven magic, then," Legolas responded, sounding rather incredulous.

Thinking for a minute more, he added, "As a matter of fact, she knows very little about elven magic now. There is no way Emma could have enchanted me because she would not know how. It is a rare gift anyway, to be able to enchant another individual especially if that individual is a child of the Eldar."

"I know it is, my son but those were his exact words to me. He did not imply, of course, that Emma is an enchantress. I doubt she is, myself," Algernil stated.

"As do I," Legolas agreed, interrupting his mother, "I doubt such things exist anyway. It does not seem like a very useful ability to have. Nothing like Niphredil's ability to return that which was dead to the living."

Algernil looked to her son, giving him a small glare to let him know she had something else to say. Legolas nodded his understanding and motioned for Algernil to go on. He really hadn't meant to interrupt her.

"Thranduil, in his infinite wisdom, also believes that I have been enchanted by Emma," Algernil finished, ending her words with some more laughter.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, after Algernil's laughter had subsided into something a bit more manageable. She had spent the day dwelling on her husbands words as bodies and problems were paraded before the court. The more she thought about them, the more amusing they became to her.

"Whatever possessed you to allow Emma the title of 'princess' anyway?" Algernil wanted to know, realizing, though she may have asked before, it never hurt to ask again.

One never knew when they would get more information of a very different answer. Her penchant to question was of no surprise to her son, as Legolas seemed to consider his mother's question with the utmost seriousness.

Legolas thought for a moment, trying to discern what, exactly, had caused him to make such a kingdom altering decision. It had seemed so obvious to him at the time, though. It was just something he knew he had to do in order to set things right. Nothing was ever gained by not following what one felt was right, so long as it was well within reason.

This seemed to be well within the realms of reason.

"It seemed only fair, the obvious thing to do at the time. Her father, biologically as Emma is so fond of putting it, is the king. I am his son and crowned prince. It just made sense for her to be crowned princess," Legolas answered.

Sounding a bit sheepish, he added, "Once I found out how father treated her mother, it angered me. It also seemed like the best way to honor your memory. Father may not have honored it but I could do my best to set things straight."

"You did the proper things," Algernil told her son, with some pride in her voice, "I would have done the same, if I were here and in your position. I would, also, have made Emma princess."

"It seemed the best course of action to even the score, to borrow a phrase from Shannon," Legolas commented with a laugh.


	19. Oltre ed Ora

AN: Welcome back my friends! Sorry, I was in song mode for a moment. Anywho, sorry for the lateness of this update but I've got a genetics test on the horizon and I've been getting ready to study for it. Thankfully, that's the only test I have coming up so it's only a momentary delay. Not like it's midterms or anything yet (those I'm particularly nervous about but that's just me!). Anyway, here's the latest in my little adventure, fresh from the guts of my computer. Please, keep sending those reviews along! I greatly appreciate each and every one of them! All of you most excellent reviewers rock like a box of socks!

LJP: Well, I guess you could consider it a conversation between two adults. It's really just them talking badly about Thranduil because he has all these crazy ideas. Both of them are just trying to figure out what to do with Emma and how to get Emma to trust Algernil.

Elven Script: I hope your essays are going well! I have a test coming up for my genetics class so I know how you feel about school. Would you like to see some actual bashing? Perhaps I can throw in some father/son fighting time or something to that effect.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

"Shannon?" Algernil asked bringing up a point she had wanted to bring up for several days.

The name was very familiar to her, having heard it several times, but she lacked the face for the name. At the moment, this figure of "Shannon" was just a specter that seemed to surround Emma and was somehow attached to Emma's life here and in the other world. Algernil wanted badly to have a face to put with the name.

Actually, she wanted to speak with this Shannon individual in order to see if she could be an ally of sorts. If she was attached to Emma's life then, perhaps, she could aid Algernil in her working against Thranduil.

That and she wanted to see if this mysterious Shannon person was able to give her more information about Thranduil's actions toward Emma. Get another point of view and all that because her sources of information were Emma and Legolas. The other higher ups in the court were loath to talk about Emma to her. She was _persona non grata_ in Thranduil's eyes and, as such, the eyes of those who worked within the courts.

Here and there she caught a few fleeting bits of information- like from the elven female who taught Emma to dance and from those who taught the child her daily lessons- but no one wanted to sit down and talk to her about Thranduil's behavior with her daughter. Either they were telling the truth and they knew very little or there was some sort of widespread cover up involving, possibly, some sort of fear tactic Thranduil used to keep the others quiet.

She sincerely hoped it was not the latter case for Algernil did not want to think Thranduil- for all his shortcomings- as capable of doing something like that. It all seemed a bit too underhanded and, well, evil for even her husband's sometimes difficult self.

"Emma's mother, so to speak. She was the woman who took care of Emma in the other world with her husband Mitchell. You will be able to speak to her once she and her husband return from the other world," Legolas answered.

"I am very surprised your father allowed two normal humans to stay here with his daughter. Though he may not like her, it is curious that he did not appoint an elven family to care for her. To leave Emma in the care of the family she has known most of her life seems a bit incongruous with his feelings towards her," Algernil, carefully stated.

Much to her surprise, Legolas gave a small chuckle. Apparently, there was a very interesting or amusing story about why Shannon and her husband were allowed to stay within the confines of Mirkwood. A story that Algernil was very interested in hearing.

Then again, she was interested in most anything that had to do with how her world changed since she last walked among the living. Between the stories her son regaled her with about the destruction of the One Ring of power to strange events that seemed to surround Emma and, to a lesser extent, Niphredil, Algernil wanted to know about it all. Every story was another chance for her to learn something else about the world she was being asked to call home once again and far be it from her to not want to learn something.

"I am sure there's a most interesting story about Shannon," Algernil broached, sounding relaxed enough to earn another laugh from her son, "Why not share it with me? I'm not going anywhere and I doubt you are too."

"It's not an easy story to tell, _nana_, and I'm afraid we're not quite sure how to explain it ourselves because it crosses the line between our world and the Muggle World," Legolas stated, "how that happened is beyond anyone's understanding though we believe that getting in contact with Galadriel about it may be of some use."

"Well, tell me what you can and, perhaps, I can join you in the quest for some good, solid answers. I'm curious about these people, Legolas since I have heard that this Shannon character bested your father with just her tongue. There are not many in this kingdom who can boast about doing just that," Algernil countered.

With a bit of a resigned sigh- Sometimes his mother could be as stubborn as his father but in a good way since she was more open minded about things. - Legolas started to explain everything he knew about Shannon. From the strange image in the mirror that appeared before her when he first showed her both Emma and his own true image, to the revelation that Shannon, was in fact, the spirit of a once great warrior reborn, Legolas painted his mother an image with his words. He revealed to her that it was through her marriage to Mitchell- with his Celtic blood, though that was a concept he knew only Emma understood well- that Emma was given to her. It was the fulfillment of a promise made long ago to the warrior she once was.

"Now, Shannon gets flashes of her past life. She remembers certain things but cannot say how she recalls them. Her grasp of our language is amazing and she does know how to use weaponry though she is not as proficient as she use to be in that aspect," Legolas ended.

Remembering something, he added, "Only recently did we find out her past name. Shannon recalled it one not so special afternoon. Her says that she was once called Sailacel which caught us all off guard."

"Because it is an elvish name and she was no elf in her past life and is no elf now," Algernil surmised.

"No, she was no elf then and she is no elf now. None know why she responds to that name but Shannon claims it is the name she once had. With no way of verifying it, none can say if it is true or false," Legolas expounded.

All the talk about Shannon and being in the presence of his own mother gave Legolas an interesting idea. An idea he figured he could present to his mother and help her earn the trust of Emma. The trust Algernil was seeking since the little girl was polite but distance with her.

Legolas knew his mother wanted to close that distance and try and get to know his younger sister better. He was sure his idea would work to do just that.

(AN: Sailacel is, actually, the elvish translation of the meaning of the name Shannon.)


	20. Il Perso

AN: Apparently, and much to my eternal surprise, I have to week off. I have no idea why and I don't think I want to ask why anyway. It's always a nice to have a day off or two show up at some point especially since the weather's supposed to be nasty here all week and there's nothing that's worse than having to walk to school in the cold and the rain. Well, there's that and the fact I'm none to happy about my Girl Scout assignment this week. Since the Brownie leader's not around, I have to play double duty with both her troop and my troop and her troop is….well, to put it mildly….huge. Anywho, thanks for all the reviews and please keep them coming. I really appreciate any and all input and let me know what needs to be improved in this story. I like to hear everyone's opinions and will do my best to fix things accordingly.

LJP: Actually, the connection won't go through Shannon. Shannon's there because she was Emma's caretaker and was, sort of, destined to do so. The connection will go through Algernil and who she knew in her past. The only thing Emma's brought to Middle Earth was herself, Shannon, and some unbalance to Thranduil's court.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

The plan was simple enough, straightforward enough, strangely perfect enough that Algernil was surprised that she hadn't thought of it herself. Legolas had, though, and Algernil was grateful for that. Apparently, he was either wiser beyond his years or, like her, knew just how to push his father's buttons.

Then again, how could she have really known?

She hadn't known that Thranduil had forbidden anyone from speaking about the elven female that had mothered Emma. The little girl could ask all she wanted but she would never learn a thing about her blood mother. Her father would not give her that valuable piece for information because he felt she did not deserve to know. In Legolas' words- As he repeated his father's words for her benefit- Emma was not "worthy" enough to know about her own mother.

Both mother and son knew what sort of blow that was to Emma, who never spoke about it because that was how she was. She had been eager to learn about her "biological" family when she first came to Middle Earth. Not that she wanted to trade the family she had for the one she had been born into. More like, to her, it was a curiosity. Something to be explored and discovered and something to connect to but not something to abandon the family she had known for.

Now, to be denied such a opportunity, was something more than detrimental to the young elven child. It was almost as if Thranduil was trying to strip her of part of her personality. He was preventing her from getting to know part of herself and Legolas figured that, by allowing Algernil to give Emma that part of herself, it would cement something like a trust between the pair.

There was only one problem with her son's little plan.

Algernil could not see an opportune time to implement it. Every time she and Emma were in close quarters, the young elven child would find a proper and polite excuse to remove herself from the situation. Even if her brother was present- Not the way Algernil want things to happen but she would take it because it was the best she could do- Emma would skitter off. There was no way it would work with Thranduil around either because Emma was too afraid of him and he wasn't allowing her to learn about her mother anyway.

The opportunity didn't seem to want to present itself, much to the dismay of the queen of Mirkwood. Still, she knew that a time would come. It wasn't that the world was working against her or, at least, that's what Algernil hoped.

It was nearly time for the evening meal and Emma had yet to return home from her lessons. The young elven child was not at any of her usual haunts and she no one seemed to know where she had gotten to. Emma, for all intents and purposes, had disappeared from the palace in Mirkwood.

Legolas, almost as soon as Emma failed to show up when she was supposed to, began to worry about the young girl. He was sure that his half sister knew better than to wander into the forest without a guide and she had stopped getting lost a long while ago. She was also not one to go off and do something with out asking for a measure of permission.

Plus, Emma knew that as a member of the royal family- such as she was all things considered- she could not go off without letting someone know where she was going to be. Peace was the norm in Middle Earth but there was always the chance some disgruntled individual might try something. Best to let the guards know where one was, just in case.

The crowned prince of Mirkwood was not just afraid for his young sister, though. No, he was also scared for himself. If something happened to Emma, Shannon would have no qualms about knocking him upside the head. If he were to lose her daughter- By blood or not, Shannon thought of Emma as her own child and everyone knew that. - Shannon would have something to say or do about it.

He was about to go off to start looking for his wayward sibling when a summons came down from his father. It seemed his search would have to wait because Thranduil needed to urgently speak with him.

Sighing, because he really didn't like the idea of not going to look for Emma, Legolas made his way down to his father's private study. The meeting, no matter what it was about, would have to be taken care of quickly. He needed to go looking for his sister.


	21. Su un' Albero

AN: Hiya all! Well, my little vacation's over and I'm back in school again. Actually, it feels like I never left school so I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing, really. Probably a normal thing since I'm nearly always in school or doing something school related….or dance related….or Girl Scouts related. Anywho, I'm actually updating on time for once! I'm really going to try to make that a habit unless things get wicked crazy for me again (like with my Molecular Biology exam at the end of the month). Anyway, thanks for the reviews! I greatly appreciate them and I appreciate your honesty. Please, let me know if there's anything I can to do change this story and make it better. I like to hear what people are thinking and I'm always willing to do something to improve the way I write.

LJP: Oh my indeed! It's not exactly a good thing to misplace a younger sibling, especially when her mother isn't exactly going to be the most rational person about it. Shannon would have no qualms about giving Legolas, prince or not, a piece of her mind if he manages to lose Emma on her.

Elven Script: Thranduil may be getting a little of both, in the near future. The physical, I'm not sure but, as for the verbal, that could easily come from Shannon or Algernil. Maybe even Emma but that's a long shot since she's pretty much afraid of her own father. It's quite alright! Schoolwork is very important to keep up on! I hope you're all caught up and everything's well with you! I'm posting right now!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

At least Legolas was comforted by two related facts with the summons to Thranduil's study. The first was that meeting was going to be short and painfully brief. His father was not going mince words on this topic in any way, shape, or form. He was going to say what he had to say and that was that. All the crowned prince was supposed to was stand there and take his father's words to heart and try not to smile.

The smiling had very little to do with his father or what his father had to say. It had everything, though; to do with the fact his mother was present at the little meeting. Algernil was standing to his father's right, just off Thranduil's shoulder so that she was behind him. Normally, Legolas figured since the ruling women he knew were very strong characters in their own rights, the queen would have just demurely stood there and allowed her husband to speak.

Not so with Algernil.

She was standing behind Thranduil listening to his words and almost mocking him. She was making light of his motions, doing them a moment after her husband. Much to the amusement of her son even if he was trying his best not to smile or give any indication that his mother was posturing behind his father.

The second part of the summons had everything to do with the worry laying on Legolas' mind. At least now he knew where Emma was. Thranduil's rant seemed to go on and on about the elven child that was his daughter by blood.

"Furthermore, if you do not get her out of that tree, she'll be spending the night up there without any food or guards to keep her safe from anything that night wander into the area," Thranduil threatened with no hint of humor in his voice.

He meant every word he said. The threat he was making was very, very genuine and that did not bode well for Emma or Legolas. True, the shadows that had once covered all of Mirkwood were re-ceding but there were still some dark and evil thing about in the forest that only moved under the cover of night. To leave Emma- who most likely was unarmed and unaware of anything that lurked in the woods at night- up in a tree was not exactly the safest or smartest of ideas.

From what Legolas understood, Emma had wound up in the tree because of Thranduil. As the story was told to him, Emma had returned from her lessons early and had found no one around. As per her brother's instructions- because he didn't want her in his own quarters without someone to watch over her- she'd gone to the king's private study to do her homework. It was in said study that Thranduil had found the child and, in his infinite wisdom, had his private guards chase her out of the study.

Emma, being frightened and having no one to run to in order to protect her, took off at a dead run. The guards, with their orders from their ruler, continued to give chase and wound up sending their quarry up one of the larger trees in a courtyard.

Therein was the problem for all involved.

Emma refused to come down out of the tree now. She was sitting among its leafy branches looking as if she was ready to spend a very long time up there.

It really didn't help the situation any that Thranduil had ordered the guards to stay around the tree. Apparently, according to their shared father, the guards were told that, if Emma was to come down from her tree, she was to be brought directly to him in order to be "reprimanded."

No one could say if Emma knew that or not but the guards weren't exactly inspiring the elven child to come down from her tree. They had to indicate that something big was going on and that it had something to do with the father she was sacred of.

"I'll get her out of the tree, father, and there's no need to reprimand Emma in any way. The only reason she was in your study was because I told her to come here. It wasn't as if she was doing something wrong in here. She was just doing her work," Legolas, sighed trying to reason with his father.

He knew reasoning was a moot point but, at the very least, he had to try. It wasn't like he was going to bring Emma to his father once she came down, anyway. He would take her aside and make sure she understood what happened. Their shared father would have nothing to do with it.

Legolas sketched a bow in deference to his father's position and was nearly out of the room when he heard his mother's voice.

"Do not bother, my son. Go take some rest," Algernil stated, giving Legolas a blatant wink, "I will get Emma out of that tree and bring her to you right away."

This seemed to be the perfect opportunity to enact her little plan. Emma was, finally, in a place she couldn't easily leave. Not if she wanted to avoid being taken to her father. She had to stay up in that tree in order to keep herself safe and Algernil knew that for a fact.

Without a place to go, Emma had to hear Algernil out. She had no choice but to listen to and learn from the older elven female.

"One of you go and get that child out of that tree, Thranduil sighed, "I care not which of you. Just get it done."


	22. Edizioni con le Protezioni

AN: Hiya all! Hope everyone's having a good week or so and getting ready for Halloween. Since I'm a Girl Scout leader, I get the esteemed honor of having to get myself a costume and dress up for our troop's Halloween Party. This year, because one of the other leaders stole my original costume idea which I think isn't fair, I'd going as Alice from Alice in Wonderland. The only thing I'm not doing is wearing a wig…my hair's too long to wear a wig comfortably and it makes me look odd. My sister's going as Raggedy Anne, even though she's fighting my mom (the troop's coordinator) about wearing a costume. Anywho, enough about Halloween. Thanks for all the reviews for my little story! They're greatly appreciated!

LJP: Yup! Emma's finally been backed into the one corner she can't get out of. Unless, of course, she wants to have to deal with her father and that's something Emma wouldn't really like to do seeing as how she's terrified of him. It remains to be seen just how serious she's going to take Algernil…whether or not she's going to believe that the queen's being genuine with her.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Finding the correct tree was not really a difficult task despite the fact Thranduil had not mentioned what tree Emma had gone up. In the area in and around the compound that was Thranduil's home, there were many, many trees. Such was the nature of things if one lived in a forest. Trees were sort of the norm, given the location.

Still, Algernil didn't have an issue finding the tree Emma had hidden herself away in. It was marked as different from all its tall and verdant fellows simply because it had a ring of rather board looking guards standing around the wide circumference that was its brown barked trunk.

The guards, fully armed and dressed in the traditional colors of the Mirkwood livery, looked relaxed and at ease. After all this wasn't exactly the highest impact, difficult of assignments for them. They were just keeping a small elfling up a tree because that was what their king had told them to do.

Upon seeing Algernil, though, the guards snapped to attention. They made sure they looked the part of the royal guard of Mirkwood, even if they were being reduced to nothing more than royal babysitters for a child their king didn't even really like talking about.

"Why are all of you standing here?" Algernil demanded, putting a great deal of strength and anger in her usually friendly and curious voice, "Is there not someplace better for my husband's fine guards to be today?"

True, she knew the nature of the situation but she wanted the guards to own up to what they had been ordered to do. There was just something about them realizing what they were doing wasn't really fair that only their own admittance could create. No reprimand Algernil could give them would ever be strong enough, even if they acted like it was because she was, after all, Thranduil's wife.

"There is a dangerous fugitive up that tree ma'am," one guard, a younger one of the fellows, informed the queen with an air of him making a very important announcement.

Embolden by his fellow's words- even if they were a flat out lie- another guard added, "We are on orders from the king, your husband, to wait here until she comes down."

Algernil sighed, knowing that they were lying to her face. That, in and of itself, was a punishable crime but she decided not to call them on that fact. Later she would inform their captain that his men were not honest with her. That was punishment enough for any of them for their captain was an elf who would not tolerate dishonest among his elves.

"You do realize that there is no fugitive in that tree. There is just a scared little girl," she informed the guards in a frustrated voice, "Consider yourselves relieved and go back to your normal duties. I will see to your so called fugitive."

The guards looked at one another, obviously confused. They had been ordered by Thranduil to stand watch until the little elfling came out of the tree but here was the queen telling them to move along and that she would deal with the child, herself. It was not unusual for Thranduil and Algernil to have differing opinions about things but rarely, if ever, did those opinions come into open conflict with one another.

Stepping up and taking control of the situation, the most senior of the guards stated, "We were ordered, my lady, to keep watch over this tree. What if something were to happen to you while we had our backs turned? I doubt your husband would treat us kindly if that came to pass."

Algernil wanted to say something about Thranduil not lamenting her loss for a second time but held her tongue in check. That was a comment for another time, another place, and, most certainly, another set of ears.

"Do not worry yourself nothing will happen to me," she informed the guards in a firm voice, "there is no dangerous fugitive in that tree and you know it. There is just a little elfling and I wish to speak to her."

Seeing the guards not moving and, now, gawking at her with openly shocked expressions, Algernil ordered, in her most queenly voice, "As queen, you can not disobey me so, as queen, I order all of you to leave me be. Go back to your normal posts, now."

With much hesitation and a few looks back, the guards started to leave. Algernil knew, from the way they were whispering amongst each other and looking back at her, that they were going to tell Thranduil about her behavior.

Not that he could do anything to stop her. As queen, it was her rarely invoked right to use. She'd only used it now because it was a means to an end. She wasn't going to get what she wanted unless she acted the role of queen. It was a lesson learned over the many years she'd been at Thranduil's side at court. Perhaps- and this was something slim- he would be proud of what she'd done but Algernil highly doubted that.

He'd probably be annoyed, if anything.

Shading her eyes, and allowing the pent up tension from the previous few moments slip away, Algernil located Emma sitting among the boughs of the tree. She was easy to spot with her long cascade of silver-white hair hanging in a long braid down her right side.

The young elfling sat in the crook of a very high, very thick branch. Nestled in place like some sort of furry forest creature, Emma was quietly reading some sort of book. She looked exceedingly comfortable in her leafy seat, as if she could stay up there for days. Highly unlikely because Emma would eventually get hungry, cold, or tired but the idea was about the same.

"No use waiting," Algernil mumbled to herself as she started up the tree.

Thankfully climbing trees was one of those skills one learned and never really forgot, even after not making use of it for quite some time. There was that and the fact Algernil was an elf and they were, sort of, predisposed to being able to climb trees. If Emma heard Algernil's approach, she made no motion. The elfling kept right on reading, seemingly unaware of who was coming up to get her down from her leafy seat.

For that Algernil was very thankful. She was afraid that Emma was going to start down the tree even as she started up.


End file.
